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CLASS  OF  ’61. 


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OF  THE 


GLASS  OF  ’ 6i . 


Wednesday,  May  15,  1861. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  CLASS. 


GENEVA: 

S.  H.  PARKER,  PRINTER,  GAZETTE  OFFICE. 

1861. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/classdayexerciseOOhoba 


The  Class  of  Eighteen  Hundred  and  Sixty-one  will  ever  be  remember- 
ed in  the  annals  of  Hobart  College,  for  its  untiring  energy  and  zeal  in 
every  act  that  might  redound  to  the  honor  of  its  Alma  Mater,  and  for  the 
striking  spirit  of  originality  it  has  manifested  throughout  its  whole  Col- 
lege Course.  Nothing  that  has  been  done  by  this  Class  will  probably 
add  a brighter  lustre  to  its  fame,  than  its  institution  of  a “ Class  Day  ” at 
Hobart.  This  is  a custom  that  has  been  long  observed  in  other  Colleges, 
and  the  Class  of ’61  were  determined  that  the  custom  should  be  inaugu- 
rated here,  and  that  too  by  itself.  A portion  of  the  Faculty  were  opposed 
to  any  deviation  from  the  regular  course  of  former  classes,  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  any  new  customs ; but  with  the  approval  of  two  or  three 
members  of  that  august  body,  the  Class  made  their  arrangements,  and  by 
every  one  it  was  pronounced  a complete  success. 

An  Orator,  Poet,  and  Historian  were  chosen,  and  the  manner  in  which 
they  acquitted  themselves,  can  be  seen  by  an  examination  of  the  follow- 
ing pages. 

The  morning  of  the  15th  of  May  showed  a clear  and  cloudless  sky, 
which,  after  the  days  of  constant  rain  which  had  preceded,  was  hailed  by 
all  with  delight ; especially  by  the  members  of  the  Senior  Class,  who  saw 
in  this  a propitious  omen  of  their  now  undertaking. 

At  two  o’clock  P.  M.,  the  Senior  Class  met  in  front  of  the  College,  and 
preceded  by  the  Geneva  Brass  Band,  marched  in  procession  to  Linden 
Hall.  By  the  unanimous  request  of  the  Class,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wilson,  sen- 
ior Professor  of  the  Faculty  presided,  and  opened  the  exercises  at  the 
Hall  with  prayer.  An  Oration  was  then  pronounced  by  Napoleon 
Palmer,  after  which  a Poem  was  delivered  by  Bykon.  K.  Cowles. 

Mr.  Charles  T.  Ogden  then,  in  behalf  of  the  Senior  Class,  presented 
to  the  Juniors  an  Indian  paddle,  (supposed  to  have  formerly  belonged  to 
the  Chief  of  the  Canadesagas,  and  discovered  by  some  members  of  the 
Class,  while  exploring,  a year  or  two  since,  the  bottom  of  Lake  Seneca 
for  minerals,)  which  was  gracefully  received  by  Mr.  Edward  S.  Lawson 
as  the  representative  of  that  Class.  After  music  by  the  Band,  and 
the  benediction  by  Dr.  Wilson,  the  Class  formed  in  procession  and 
marched  to  the  College  campus,  where,  in  the  hearing  of  the  whole  Col- 
lege and  a large  concourse  of  spectators,  a Class  history  was  read  by 
Martin  Cooper.  The  Class  then  partook  freely  of  refreshments,  both 
of  an  eatable  and  drinkable  nature,  the  Pipe  of  Peace  was  smoked,  songs 


4 


were  sung,  and  to  the  inspiring  strains  of  the  Band  the  Class  joined  in 
the  mazes  of  the  dance  upon  the  green,  green  grass. 

Final  hands  shaking  were  then  taken,  and  while  the  tender  strains  of 
“ Auld  Lang  Syne  ” died  away  on  the  evening  air,  a tear  glistened  in  the 
bright  eye  of  many  a strong  man ; and  the  Class  after  a call  at  the  resi- 
dence of  each  member  of  the  Faculty,  with  three  cheers  for  their  Alma 
Mater,  adjourned  to  meet  again  at  the  supper  table. 

At  half  past  eleven  P.  M.,  they  gathered  around  the  festal  board,  (for 
an  account  of  the  proceedings  at  the  supper  table  see  subsequent  page,) 
where,  for  several  hours  the  good  things  of  their  host,  Mr.  Suydam,  were 
discussed,  speeches  made,  songs  sung,  and  a general  good  time  had.  At 
four  o’clock  in  the  morning  they  wended  their  way  towards  College,  ser- 
enading the  Professors  as  they  marched  up,  who  didn’t  seem  to  appreci- 
ate the  compliment,  with  the  exception  of  Dr.  Wilson,  who  has  ever 
countenanced  the  proceedings  of  this  Class,  and  arriving  at  College  filed 
through  the  old  Halls  of  their  Alma  Mater  for  the  last  time.  Around  the 
Class  tree  in  the  College  green,  a circle  was  then  formed ; upon  the  bend- 
ed knee  “ Our  Father  ” was  reverently  said  by  the  Class ; the  last  “ good 
bye”  was  spoken,  and  thus  ended  the  Class  Day  of  the  Class  of ’61,  the 
memory  of  which  will  forever  be  fresh  in  the  minds  of  its  members,  and 
the  inauguration  of  which  will  add  one  more  bright  wreath  to  their  gar- 
land ot  College  honors. 


ORATION. 


BY  NAPOLEON  PALMER. 

There  are  occasions  when,  oscillating  between  memory  and 
hope,  we  regard  the  past  and  that  which  is  to  be,  in  their  more 
intimate  relations  to  the  present ; when  we  are  conscious  that 
the  ties  which  have  united  us  to  places  and  friends  in  the  past 
are  about  to  be  severed,  and  we  feel  compelled  to  seek  other  and 
new  attachments;  when  our  recollections  of  the  past,  our  thoughts 
of  the  present,  and  our  aspirations  for  the  future,  are  at  once 
vividly  present  in  our  mind.  To-day  presents  to  us  such  an  oc- 
casion ; the  day  which  ends  for  us  an  important  period  and  be- 
gins another  still  more  important.  It  is  a day  of  mingled  emo- 
tions ; of  alternate  despondancy  and  exultation — of  despondancy, 
that  our  collegiate  life  is  ended,  that  the  vacation, — the  long  va- 
cation, extending  through  the  remainder  of  our  lives — has  com- 
menced, that  friendship’s  genial  bonds  are  to  be  weakened  by 
space  and  time,  that  hereafter  we  must  struggle  with  the  grave 
questions,  the  solemn  responsibilities  of  life  ; whilst  the  thought 
that  we  are  standing  in  the  pride  and  vigor  of  youth,  “ with 
the  dew  of  the  morning  yet  upon  us,”  just  upon  the  threshold 
of  sober  manhood,  where  life  will  be  real  and  practical,  causes 
us  exultation,  imbues  us  with  a feeling  of  dignity,  of  manliness. 

During  the  four  years  which  we  have  passed  so  pleasantly 
within  the  walls  of  our  Alma  Mater,  who  stands  yonder  so 
proudly  looking  out  upon  fair  Seneca’s  waters,  we  have  lived 
and  thought  in  the  past.  The  Philosophers,  to  whose  instruc- 
tions we  have  listened  so  attentively ; the  Orators,  whose  elo- 
quence has  so  thrilled  us  ; the  Warriors,  in  whose  combats  we 
have  participated ; the  Poets,  from  whose  strains  we  have  de- 
rived so  much  pleasure ; the  very  people  whose  manners,  cus- 


6 


toms  and  institutions  we  have  so  dilligently  studied,  have  for 
the  most  part  been  those  of  by-gone  days.  Until  this  time  we 
have  been  spectators  ; but  now  we  ourselves  are  to  be  actors. 
We  are  now  to  take  active  part  in  “the  great  drama  of  life.” 
A change  so  great  and  radical  must  necessarily  cause  us  much 
of  deep  and  earnest  thought  as  to  what  we  have  accomplished 
— what  preparation  we  have  acquired  with  which  to  meet  the 
many  requirements  and  duties  of  this  new  life  upon  which  we 
are  about  to  enter.  Have  we  made  a good  use  of  our  time  ? 
Have  we  availed  ourselves  to  the  utmost  of  the  many  advan- 
tages it  has  been  our  privilege  to  enjoy  ? Have  we  acquired 
those  habits  which  are  most  essential  to  our  prosecuting  suc- 
cessfully the  course  which  the  future  is  about  to  open  to  us  ? — 
These  are  truly  grave  questions, — questions  worthy  of  our 
strictest  attention — questions  which  each  one  can  answer  for 
himself,  and  for  himself  alone.  Can  we  return  to  them  an  affi- 
mative  answer  ? Then  may  we  look  cheerfully  forward  towards 
the  future.  Does  our  conscience  compel  a negative  reply  ? 
Then  may  we  hesitate  and  fear  to  advance  over  the  shoals  and 
quicksands  which  will  beset  our  path.  For  the  course  over 
which  we  have  just  passed  was  designed  to  train  us  for  that 
upon  which  we  are  just  entering — to  so  instruct  and  prepare 
us  that  we  might  be  successful  in  life. 

Such  being  the  fact,  I propose,  in  the  first  place,  briefly  to 
consider  a few  of  the  most  important  requisits  for  the  attain- 
ment of  that  success  for  which  we  all  wish.  And  first  amongst 
them  I shall  place  Industry.  It  is  one  of  God’s  laws  that  men 
shall  work.  “ In  the  sweat  of  the  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,” 
was  the  command  given  to  our  first  parents  by  their  creator. — 
If  we  would  be  successful  we  must  work — work  with  our  head 
or  hands,  oftener  with  both.  Living  in  a free  country,  untram- 
meled by  petty  legal  enactments,  we  are  permitted,  each  one  of 
us,  to  choose  our  own  profession  or  occupation  ; the  whole  busi- 
ness world  lies  open  to  us.  But  it  is  this  very  absence  of  law, 
this  freedom  we  can  exercise  in  the  choice  of  employment,  that 
makes  industry  the  more  necessary.  For  each  one,  pursuing 


7 


that  for  which  he  is  best  fitted  both  by  nature  and  education, 
success  will  depend  more  upon  himself.  Do  we  wish  for  wealth 
and  the  advantages  it  confers  ? The  only  sure  and  safe  path 
to  it  is  industry. 

It  is  true  that  sometimes  fortunes  are  made  in  a day.  By  a 
turn  of  the  wheel  of  the  capricious  Goddess,  a poor  man  is  made 
suddenly  rich — in  an  hour  raised  from  poverty  to  affluence.  A 
lottery  ticket — a throw  of  the  dice — a hazardous  commercial 
speculation, — have  sometimes  made  men  wealthy.  But  these 
are  exceptions,  and  experience  shows  that  fortunes  thus  obtain- 
ed are  often  as  quickly  lost.  It  is  only  by  toil — the  toil  of  years 
— that  fortunes  worth  possessing  are  acquired.  W eary  of  patient 
persevering  effort,  and  deluded  by  unreal  appearances,  the  far- 
mer is  often  persuaded  to  leave  his  plow,  the  merchant  his  count- 
ing-room, the  professional  man  his  office,  the  student  his  closet, 
to  engage  in  some  wild-goose  chase  after  wealth  ; some  speedier 
method  of  getting  gold  than  by  plodding  along  in  the  old  way, 
adding  to  their  possessions  little  by  little.  Some  brilliant  chance 
seems  to  present  itself, — it  may  be  a “ south  sea  scheme  per- 
chance a new  railroad  over  the  Rocky  Mountains — his  property 
is  invested,  and  for  a time  his  dreams  are  all  of  a golden  hue  * 
but  alas,  too  often  he  is  soon  awakened  from  his  bright  visions 
by  the  loss  of  his  all.  If  we  glance  at  those  whose  wealth  has 
made  them  famous,  we  shall  find  that  they  are  men  of  patient 
industry  and  persevering  effort.  From  the  rising  of  the  sun  to 
the  going  down  of  the  same ; yes,  frequently  till  the  stars  begin 
to  pale,  have  their  minds  and  hands  been  busy ; their  attention 
has  been  given  to  their  business  and  success  has  crowned  their 
efforts.  Far  otherwise  would  it  been  with  them  if,  in  the  morn- 
ing of  their  career,  they  had  been  led  astray  from  forming  habits  of 
persevering  industry  by  the  delusive  charms  of  hazard  and  specu- 
lation. Had  they  been  deluded  by  every  gold-mine  mania,  and 
journeyed  afar  off  from  their  homes  and  friends,  over  moun- 
tains, across  deserts  and  rivers,  among  savage  beasts  and  men 
even  more  savage,  they  would  only  have  dug  their  own  graves- 
Had  they  sought  the  gaming  table,  instead  of  living  at  their 


8 


ease  in  their  own  palatial  residences,  they  would  probably  be 
enjoying  the  hospitalities  which  the  State  offers  to  her  erring 
children.  Had  they  listened  to  the  flattering  words  of  every 
wild-brained  stock-broker,  their  only  notes  might  be  those  of 
defunct  wild-cat  institutions.  There  is  indeed  a charm  about 
this  quick  way  of  getting  rich ; but  it  is  delusive,  and  we  must 
resist  it. 

Nor  can  a distinguished  name  be  earned  in  a moment.  This 
also  requires  years  of  persevering  industry.  To  secure  the  re- 
spect of  mankind,  and  leave  behind  us  a name  honored  and  re- 
vered, we  must  add  virtue  to  virtue,  experience  to  experience, 
one  element  of  knowledge  to  another,  one  lesson  of  wisdom 
to  its  fellows,  and  persevere  thus  year  by  year,  increasing 
gradually  but  surely  in  experience  and  knowledge,  in  wisdom 
and  virtue.  So  have  all  those  distinguished  men ; those  Ora- 
tors, Philosophers,  Statesmen  and  Philanthropists,  whom  we 
love  to  honor ; so  must  we  if  we  are  emulous  of  their  good 
name.  Whatever,  then,  be  the  profession  or  business  which  we 
choose,  let  us  industriously  and  perseveringly  pursue  it.  “ The 
stone  that  keeps  rolling  will  gather  no  moss.”  Remember  that 
no  lawful  manly  pursuit  is  despicable.  Cincinnatus  was  found 
cultivating  his  field  by  the  messengers  sent  by  Rome’s  august 
Senate  to  inform  him  of  his  election  as  Dictator  of  the  Empire. 
Commodore  Vanderbilt,  who  commands  a navy  of  which 
European  Princes  might  well  be  proud,  was  once  a cabin  boy. 
The  Father  of  his — of  our  country — was  a farmer.  Industry 
is  honorable  ; ’tis  idleness  that  is  disgraceful.  The  over-alls  of 
a mechanic  covered  with  dust  and  grease,  the  jacket  of  a mason 
besmeared  with  lime  and  plaster,  the  ragged  coat  of  the  literary 
or  scientific  student,  often  conceals  a more  honorable  man  than 
the  broad-cloth  of  him  who,  glorying  in  his  wealth — inherited 
perhaps  from  industrious  ancestors — looks  with  contempt  upon 
all  labor,  whether  physical  or  mental. 

Another  indispensible  requisite  for  success  is  Frugality.  I 
would  not  willingly  utter  anything  to  encourage  a miserly  spirit, 
far  from  it.  If  there  is  one  cbntemptible  man  more  contemptible 


9 


than  all  others,  it  is  an  avaricious,  close-fisted  miser.  To  see  a 
human  being  so  blind  to  the  true  ends  of  life,  that  he  heaps  up 
gold  for  its  own  sake,  and  that  he  may  conceal  it  from  the  gaze 
of  others  ; feasting  his  eyes  upon  his  heaps  of  shining  pieces, 
and  pleasing  his  ears  with  their  ringing  sound,  as  he  counts  and 
re-counts  them  over  and  over  one  by  one ; gloating  over  gold 
by  day,  dreaming  of  gold  by  night ; dying,  thinking  more  of 
his  gold  than  of  his  God — to  see  such  an  one,  is  to  see  one  of 
the  saddest  sights  degraded  humanity  presents.  And  but  little 
less  disgusting  is  he  who,  though  not  avaricious,  is  nevertheless 
covetous.  Who,  although  he  does  not  make  mammon  his  only 
idol, — “ his  all  in  all,” — still  is  so  tenacious  of  his  possessions  as 
to  turn  a deaf  ear  to  all  the  calls  of  benevolence,  and  by  so  doing 
denies  the  claims  of  nature.  But  if  avarice  and  covetousness 
he  the  Scylla , prodigality  and  extravagance  are  no  less  the 
Charybdis.  Each  must  be  avoided  if  we  would  reach  the  haven 
of  success.  Often  from  the  desire  to  avoid  the  one  we  are 
wrecked  upon  the  other.  That  we  may  not  appear  niggardly, 
frequently  we  rush  to  the  other  extreme,  and  become  prodigal. 
“ Live  within  your  income,”  is  the  motto,  which,  if  adopted, 
will  enable  us  to  avoid  either  extreme,  and  pursue  the  “juste 
millieu  ” — the  true  golden  mean — to  its  inevitable  and  desired 
result. 

Still  another  element  of  success,  no  less  indispensible  than  in- 
dustry and  frugality,  is  Hoxesty.  Just  entering  into  active  bu- 
siness life,  we  shall  be  peculiarly  exposed  to  temptations,  not 
only  from  our  own  desires  within,  but  also  from  our  surround- 
ings. W e will  see  many  whose  success  is  comparatively  rapid, 
and  forgetting  that  while  we  are  but  just  entering  upon  our 
course,  they  have  been  advancing  for  years,  we  wish  to  advance 
with  equal  strides.  Again  we  shall  find  some  seemingly  very 
prosperous,  who  do  not  always  act  upon  the  principle  “ that 
honesty  is  the  best  policy.”  Incited  by  their  apparent  success, 
we  may  be  tempted  to  practice  similar  artifices.  But  if  we  ob- 
serve closely  those  who  practice  those  “ tricks  of  the  trade,” 
we  shall  discover  that  their  prosperity  is  illusory.  Their  ill- 


10 


gotten  gains  are  very  liable  to  “ take  to  themselves  wings  and 
fly  away their  dishonest  practices,  sooner  or  later,  are  discov- 
ered, their  reputation  lost ; those  who  once  were  friends  have 
grown  cool  and  distrustful ; and  unable  to  get  assistance  in  time 
of  need,  they  cannot  withstand  the  frowns  of  Fortune.  Where- 
as, if  they  had  made  honesty  their  guide,  though  fortune  had 
veiled  her  face,  yet  possessed  of  an  honorable  name  and  sur- 
rounded and  supported  by  trusting  friends,  they  could  have 
contended  valiently,  and  at  length . compelled  the  smiles  of  the 
“ fickle  jade.”  Let  us  then  make  honesty  one  of  our  most  fa- 
miliar guides  ; and  let  it  not  be  merely  that  required  by  the 
letter,  but  rather  that  taught  by  the  spirit  of  the  law, — the  hon- 
esty which  morality  inculcates.  Not  resting  satisfied  with  the 
mere  fact,  that  in  our  daily  walk  we  have  done  nothing  that  has 
violated  the  law,  but  seek  to  render  our  thoughts  and  intentions 
such  that  our  conscience  will  not  brand  us  with  dishonesty. 

These  are  the  chief  requisites  of  success ; but  if  we  are  pos- 
sessed of  these  we  shall  also  possess  many  others  ; for  they 
they  never  go  alone.  A numberless  host  of  correct  principles 
follow  in  their  train.  If  we  would  be  successful  let  us  make 
these  our  own — let  us  be  honest,  frugal,  industrious. 

But  as  students,  as  educated  men,  we  cannot  be  satisfied  with 
mere  success  in  the  business  in  which  we  may  choose  to  engage. 
The  studies  we  have  pursued,  the  instructions  we  have  received, 
have  given  us  aspirations  other  and  higher  than  those  for  wealth 
and  fame.  We  have  been  taught  that  this  busy  scene  here  is 
not  the  whole  of  life  ; that  there  is  a world — a life  beyond. — 
W e have  had  the  human  mind  laid  bare  to  our  gaze,  so  that  we 
could  view  all  its  various  workings  and  capabilities.  The  great 
principles  that  govern  man  and  nations,  the  world  animate  and 
inanimate,  have  been  subjects  for  our  study ; and  we  desire  to 
fill  well  our  places, — the  places  assigned  to  us  by  the  Disposer 
of  all  things, — He  who  made  man  in  his  own  image.  We  wish 
to  be  true  men,  than  which  God  has  created  nothing  more  noble.. 

We  know  full  well  that  not  every  one  who  wears  the  human 
form  is  a man  in  the  full  and  noble  sense  of  that  term.  The 


11 


form  proves  their  connection  with  the  “ genus  homo”  nothing 
more.  Many  live  among  us  devoid  of  all  the  chief  elements  of 
a manly  character ; many  who  think  themselves  men, — who 
think  their  course  honorable  and  worthy  of  imitation.  The 
gambler  has  his  ideas  of  manliness — his  code  of  honor ; the 
duellist  has  his  code  of  honor ; the  ambitious  warrior,  gory 
with  the  blood  of  his  unoffending  fellow  creatures,  has  his  code 
<of  honor.  But  we  are  unwilling  to  accept  any  of  these  as  our 
own. 

Many  and  various  are  the  opinions  entertained  as  to  what 
constitutes  a man.  By  some,  blood  and  station ; by  others,  in. 
tellect ; by  others  still,  wealth  is  supposed  to  make  the  man. — 
Are  these  opinions  correct  ? Do  any  any  or  all  of  these  acci- 
dental endowments  make  their  possessors  “ the  noblest  work 
of  God  ?”  Bear  with  me  a short  time  while  I endeavor  to  ans- 
wer these  questions. 

Can  blood  or  birth,  station  or  title,  make  a man  ? Duplicity 
and  crime  are  as  often  found  in  a Monarch’s  gorgeous  palace, 
as  in  the  humble  hut  of  the  peasant.  Titled  dignitaries  are  as 
frequently  devoid  of  principles  of  humanity  as  boorish  serfs. — 
Nero  was  the  acknowledged  sovereign  of  the  mighty  Roman 
Empire  ; of  her  who  gave  laws  to  the  whole  world,  and  whose 
power  and  fame  is  the  admiration  of  our  own  age  ; the  blood 
of  the  Ceasers  flowed  through  his  veins  ; was  he  a man  ? Did 
his  heart  beat  in  unison  with  the  great  heart  of  humanity  ? — 
Ask  the  burning  palaces  of  the  seven-hilled  city  ! ask  the  prim- 
itive Christians ! Ask  them  if  he  was  a man,  and  they  will 
answer,  No  ! he  was  a demon  in  human  form.  When  he 
died  the  crushed  form  of  humanity  was  relieved  of  a mighty 
incubus ; and,  standing  erect  over  his  corpse,  sang  an  anthem 
of  deliverance  and  thanksgiving. 

On  the  other  hand,  men  of  low  degree,  holding  in  their  hand 
no  scepter,  wearing  on  their  heads  no  crown,  clad  not  in  the 
rich  habiliments  of  majesty,  but  in  the  garments  of  poverty, 
have  come  forth  from  their  obscurity,  and  by  their  lives  and 
teachings  re-awakened  the  race  to  its  true  interests,  dazzling 


12 


the  eyes  of  their  contemporaries  by  the  brilliancy  of  their  man- 
hood. Such  was  Luther.  His  heart  was  human,  each  pulsa- 
tion was  manly  ; he  was  a man.  Such  were  Wilberforce  and 
Howard  ; such  were,  such  are  many  who  adorn  our  race. 

Wealth  does  not  make  a man.  Great  fortunes  do  not  neces- 
sarily endow  their  possessors  with  manly  sentiments  proportion- 
ably  great.  Better  for  the  cause  of  suffering  humanity  were 
it  so  ! Better  would  it  be  if  persons  rich  in  worldly  goods 
were  also  rich  in  human  feelings  ; if  great  possessions  belonged 
only  to  great  hearts.  But  such  is  not  the  fact ; alas,  too  fre- 
quently, the  reverse  is  true.  There  is  an  influence  proceeding 
from  great  riches  which  seems  to  narrow  the  heart,  to  drive  out 
manly  sympathies ; in  fact,  to  shrivel  and  contract  the  soul  in 
proportion  to  the  extent  of  the  wealth.  But  there  are  many 
notable  exceptions  to  this  ; and  all  honor  to  those  who  are  able 
to  resist  gold’s  blighting  influences.  Rightly  used,  it  is  an  as- 
sistance, wrongly,  a hindrance,  to  the  acquirement  of  a manly 
character. 

Does  intellect  entitle  its  possessor  to  be  called  a man  ? Truly, 
it  is  superior  to  wealth,  to  blood  or  rank  ; yet  a man  is  some- 
thing more  than  a mere  intellectualist.  W ould  we  call  Byron 
a man  ? Behold  the  splendor  of  his  intellect ; his  grasp  of 
thought ; his  clear  and  vivid  conceptions  ; the  elevated  diction  ; 
the  elegant  language  of  his  poems.  Literary  criticism  can  only 
praise  their  beauties  ; their  faults  lie  not  in  its  domain.  But 
consider  the  direction  of  their  tendancy — their  effect  upon  the 
reader.  They  tend  to  work  corruption,  they  sink  the  purer 
feelings  of  their  reader,  and  cause  him  to  blush  for  the  absence 
of  virtue,  the  corruption  of  taste,  the  depravity  of  heart  which 
they  reveal.  See  the  intellectual  powers  displayed  by  the  great 
sceptical  philosopher,  David  Hume.  His  reasonings  are  im- 
pregnable, and,  granting  the  correctness  of  his  premises,  prove 
that  we  know  nothing,  that  there  is  nothing  real, — no  virtue,  no 
truth,  no  God.  Can  we  dignify  him  with  the  name  of  man  ? 
Gibbon,  whose  “ Decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,”  en- 
titles him  to  rank  among  the  greatest  historians  of  any  country 


13 


or  of  any  age,  discovers  his  sceptical  principles  on  almost  every 
page.  While  he  teaches  truth  in  historical  facts,  he  teaches 
error  in  everything  beside.  His  attempts  to  destroy  belief  in 
the  truths  of  prophecy,  deny  to  him  the  name  of  man.  Look 
at  Sue,  Bulwer,  Dumas,  Poe,  and  many  others,  what  powers 
of  mind  do  they  reveal,  what  unwearied  industry ; yet  their 
productions  teach  nothing  manly,  but  rather  lower  and  debase 
humanity. 

What  then  does  constitute  a man  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
term  ? I answer : the  effort  to  promote  virtue,  laboring  for 
the  elevation  of  the  race,  being  obedient  to  the  government  of 
God. 

Virtue  is  the  foundation  of  all  true  happiness.  God  has  or- 
dained that  society  cannot  exist  without  it ; that  any  society, 
any  state,  to  be  prosperous  and  happy,  must  be  virtuous.  Those 
historic  nations,  celebrated  for  their  poets,  historians,  and  wise 
men,  whose  heroes  we  admire,  and  whose  power  and  greatness 
are  frequently  the  subjects  of  our  meditations,  prove  this  to  us. 
While  they  were  virtuous  they  prospered  ; when  they  became 
corrupt  they  fell — fell  to  make  room  for  nations  less  corrupt. — 
The  Catacombs  and  Pyramiads  of  Egypt,  the  ruined  Temples 
and  mouldering  columns  of  Greece,  the  magnificent  Pantheon 
and  the  crumbling  walls  of  the  Coliseum  at  Rome,  are  to  us  so 
many  evidences  that  virtue  is  necessary  to  prosperity. 

On  all  sides  of  us,  in  our  very  midst,  there  is  going  on  a con- 
tinual contest  between  virtue  and  vice.  If  we  would  see  our 
country  prosperous  ; if  we  love  our  country,  “ the  land  of  the 
brave  and  free if  we  would  be  men , let  us  hasten  to  enlist 
under  the  banner  of  virtue— let  us  strive  our  utmost  that  she 
may  reign  triumphant ; and  though  her  victories  be  bloodless 
ones,  we  shall  have  none  the  less  honor,  we  shall  show  ourselves 
true  men. 

Between  us  and  all  others  of  our  race  there  is  a sympathetic 
bond,  too  often  unrecognized,  but  nevertheless  existing.  We 
are  all  children  of  one  common  parent ; we  are  governed  by  one 
supreme  ruler  ; we  are  heirs  of  one  common  inheritance.  The 


14 


black-faced  son  of  Ethiopia, — the  red-skined  native-American, — 
the  ragged,  oppressed  and  poverty-stricken  child  of  Erin, — and 
the  fairest  cheeked  offspring  of  civilization  and  freedom,  are  of 
one  blood.  And  it  is  our  duty  as  men  to  acknowledge  this  fra- 
ternal union,  by  endeavoring  to  ameliorate  and  elevate  the  con- 
dition of  our  fellow-creatures — by  doing  away  with  oppression 
— with  slavery  both  of  the  body  and  of  the  mind — by  dispel- 
ling the  clouds  of  ignorance  and  superstition,  which  lower  so 
darkly  over  the  souls  of  men.  Do  not  think  that  because  each 
one  can  do  but  little,  thefe  will  no  good  result  from  our  en- 
deavors. 

There  are  noble  men  scattered  throughout  the  world — men 
who  have  felt  the  crushing  hand  of  despotism,— men  whose  hearts 
are  bleeding  at  the  cries  for  aid  continually  ascending  from  op- 
pressed and  benighted  millions.  And  they  are  striving  man- 
fully. Already  have  they  accomplished  much.  Cheered  by 
their  success,  they  are  striving  all  the  more,  and  asking  prayer- 
fully for  aid.  Shall  we,  who  are  blessed  with  the  advantages 
of  education  and  freedom,  fail  to  respond,  denying  to  others 
what  we  know  to  be  so  good  ? Because  their  numbers  are  few 
and  their  labor  so  great  shall  we  fear  to  join  their  ranks — 
when  we  know  that  by  so  doing  each  one  will  increase  the 
number  of  laborers  ; each  new  laborer  extend  the  power  of  the 
movement,  both  by  his  own  influence  and  exertions  and  also  by 
his  sympathy,  and  thus  attain  great  results — advance  to  greater 
conquests  ? 

And  lastly,  to  be  men  we  must  be  submissive  to  the  govern- 
ment of  God.  And  by  this  I mean  not  only  submission  to  the 
commands  of  the  decalogue,  but  also  loyalty  to  our  govern- 
ment, obedience  to  the  laws  of  our  country. 

All  authority  is  of  God,  and  if  we  would  serve  him  we  must 
be  true  to  our  country.  Had  this  principle  been  universally  ac- 
cepted and  acted  upon,  we  should  not  to-day  have  a divided 
country ; rebellion  and  treason  would  not  have  reared  their 
hydra-heads  in  the  midst  of  our  once  glorious  confedracy. — 
When  we  obey  our  country’s  commands,  let  us  remember  that 


15 


we  are  obeying  the  commands  of  God ; when  we  are  plotting 
against  her  existence,  that  we  are  conspiring  against  the  coun- 
sels of  Jehovah.  Does  our  country,  through  her  constitution- 
ally appointed  rulers,  call  upon  us  to  take  arms  and  fight  for 
the  supremacy  of  her  laws  ? Does  she  require  us  to  leave  the 
society  of  our  friends  and  the  comforts  of  home  to  punish  those 
who  are  seeking  her  ruin  ? Does  she  refuse  to  be  dismember- 
ed, to  give  up  a portion  of  her  fair  domain  to  lawless  pirates 
and  robbers,  and  ask  us  to  make  good  her  refusal  ? If  we  are 
truly  men , if  we  desire  to  worship  God,  we  will  gird  on  our 
armor,  we  will  go  forth  to  conquer  or  to  die , believing  it  to  be 
a heavenly  requirement,  that  the  Lord  is  with  us,  and  will  de- 
fend the  right ! 

Oh  ! land  of  my  birth, — thou  who  hast,  since  thy  existence, 
ever  been  the  rallying  point  for  freemen,  a refuge  for  the  op- 
pressed, the  terror  of  despotism, — may  thy  fair  proportions  never 
be  destroyed,  thy  mighty  name  never  be  weakened  by  ruffian 
or  rebellious  subjects  ! 

Oil,  glorious  flag  of  my  country  fore’er  mayst  thou  wave, 

“ O’er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.” 

May  thy  stripes  ne’er  be  sullied,  thy  stars  ne’er  be  fewer, 

But  forever  and  ever  all-powerful  endure  ! 

And  now  to  you,  sir,  (turning  to  Rev.  Dr.  Wilson,)  who, 
during  our  College  course,  have  watched  over  us  and  our  edu- 
cational interests  with  paternal  care,  I come,  in  behalf  of  my 
class,  to  tender  the  parting  tribute  of  our  gratitude.  The  cour- 
tesy with  which  you  have  treated  us,  the  patience  you  have  ex- 
ercised towards  our  boyish  freaks  and  faults,  the  manly  sym- 
pathy which  you  have  shown  us,  have  produced  an  impression 
which  will  be  lasting.  With  you  we  have  considered  the 
lessons  taught  by  history ; by  your  aid  we  have  arrived  at  the 
great  principles  which  underlie  and  shape  our  common  human- 
ity ; with  you  to  guide,  we  have  explored  the  profound  and  hid. 
den  paths  of  Philosophy  and  Metaphysics.  Guided  no  less  by 
your  example  than  by  your  admonitions  and  instructions,  we 
hope  to  prove  ourselves  true  men.  Believe  me,  we  intend  no 
empty  compliment  when  we  say  to  you,  it  will  be  our  care  and 


16 


pride  to  emulate  you  in  all  that  makes  learning  and  wisdom 
desirable,  and  humanity  noble. 

W e now  bid  you,  and  your  respected  associates  in  instrution, 
an  affectionate  farewell. 

To  you,  fellow-students,  we  now  leave  the  interests,  the  pros- 
perity, and  the  honor  of  our  Alma  Mater . During  the  last 
four  years  we  have  made  sensible  progress.  Earnest  friends 
have  been  and  are  working  for  “Old  Hobart’s  ” interests.  We 
hope  soon  to  see  her  stand  peerless  and  unrivalled.  While  you 
still  progress,  be  mindful  to  conserve  all  that  has  been  gained. 
May  you  fill  our  places  better  than  we.  We  separate  from  you 
now,  but  you  will  soon  overtake  and  join  us  in  the  ranks  of  ac- 
tive life.  May  we  then  all  be  class-mates — members  of  one 
class, — the  class  of  true , noble-hearted  men. 

And  now,  my  class-mates,  I turn  to  you.  When  we  first  met 
here  we  were  strangers,  drawn  together  only  by  a common  desire. 
For  four  years  we  have  enjoyed  each  others  society,  we  have 
participated  in  each  others  pleasures,  we  have  sympathized  with 
each  others  sorrows ; together,  morning  and  evening,  we  have, 
with  united  voices  and  hearts,  bowed  before  Almighty  God ; 
daily  have  we  witnessed  and  enjoyed  each  others  advancement 
along  the  rugged  path  of  science,  and  our  hearts  have  become 
knit  together.  We  are  no  more  strangers — we  are  brothers. — 
And  now  we  are  about  to  part, — about  to  sever  those  friendly 
bonds  which  have  been  growing  firmer  and  firmer  for  four  long 
years.  Language, — words  are  unavailing  to  portray  our  feel- 
ings. We  will  cherish  the  memory  of  this  hour  as  we  do  that 
of  departed  friends. 

But  I do  not  see  before  me  all  who  formerly  were  of  our 
number.  Several  who  commenced  their  course  with  us  are  not 
here  to  join  in  our  class  farewell.  Some  have  already  entered 
into  business  life.  Our  class  even  now  has  representatives 
among  the  brave  defenders  of  our  country’s  honor.  We  part" 
ed  with  them  as  we  part  with  dear  friends ; may  they  know 
that  we  still  remember  them. 

And  once  has  Death  laid  his  icy  hand  upon  our  number,  chil- 


17 


ling  by  liis  touch  not  only  the  life’s  blood  of  our  departed  class- 
mate, but  also  the  hearts  of  us,  his  brothers.  God,  in  his  in- 
finite wisdom,  has  seen  fit  to  take  Malcolm  Neil  McLaren 
home.  Forced  by  failing  health  to  leave  his  studies,  we  fondly 
hoped  that  he  would  soon  be  able  to  rejoin  us ; but  He  who 
doeth  every  thing  for  the  best,  would  not  permit  our  hope  to 
be  realized. 

But  this  is  no  place  for  the  indulgence  of  emotion.  Let  us, 
-class-mates,  as  we  mingle  in  the  busy  scenes  of  life,  aim  to  make 
“Old  Hobart  ” respected  and  honored,  by  showing  that  she 
not  only  teaches  her  “foster-children  ” Industry , Frugality  and 
Honesty , but  also  makes  them  promoters  of  virtue — elevators 
of  the  race — loyal  to  our  country  and  our  God. 


POEM. 


BY  BISON  K.  COWLES. 


Oh  who  of  you  would  ever  thought 
That  I a poem  should  have  wro’t ! 

I’m  sure  my  prosy  predilections, 

To  those  who  made  to-day’s  selections 
Were  all  unknown : and  wondrous  still 
To  think  the  Poet’s  chair  should  fill 
One  who  ne’er  the  muses  courted, 

Nor  with  the  ancient  Goddess  sported : 

One  who  believes  that  ancient  Troy 
With  all  its  sorrow,  all  its  joy, 

With  all  its  hosts  of  heroes  brave 
Who  fought  nine  years  an  Eve  to  save ; 

That  “ swift- winged  horses  turned  the  wheels 
Which  dragged  poor  Hector  by  the  heels 


18 


Thrice  ’round  the  sandy,  Trojan  plain 
Whilst  brave  Achilles  in  proud  disdain 
Looked  calmly  on,  as  sure  he  must, 

To  see  this  warrior  lick  the  dust : 

That  all  those  other  wondrous  men 
Who  fought  and  bled,  and  sometimes  run, 
Who  stretched  the  bow  till  double  bent 
And  “ death-bearing”  arrows  swiftly  sent; 
Who  built  a horse, — who  can  believe  it — 

Ten  thousand  warriors  lived  within  it — 
Which,  walking  into  Priam’s  town 
While  he  in  quiet  sleep  lies  down, 

Somewhat  disturbed  the  Trojan’s  slumber, 
And  men  and  women  without  number, 

Half  crazed  by  fear  and  shouting  Greeks 
En  dishabille  fill  up  the  streets, 

While  shrieks  and  groans  from  every  side 
In  waves  rolled  off  an  ebbing  tide, 

And  clashing  steel  and  awful  slaughter 
Made  Priam  think  he’d  caught  a Tartar. 

Oh ! such  horrors ! who  can  tell  ? 

And  thus  that  noble  city  fell. 

All  these  I think,  I say  again, 

Are  creatures  of  poor  Homer’s  brain. 

In  Argonantic  expeditions 

And  strong  Prometheus’  sad  afflictions, 

That  Venus  sprung  from  Ocean’s  foam 
And  Mermaids  through  the  Ocean  roam, 

The  Story  of  the  Sybil’s  cave 
And  Hercules,  a Tyrant’s  Slave, 

Of  Vulcan  forging  marvelous  shields 
Embossing  there  whole  battle  fields, 

In  Orpheus’  moving  trees  and  mountains 
And  wondrous  tales  of  perennial  fountains ; 

In  fact,  in  all  this  ancient  lore, 

Which  we  have  crammed  four  years  or  more, 
The  Poet’s  fancy  finds  a theme, 

The  Poet’s  self  a lasting  dream. 

But  why  should  I,  at  such  a time, 

Attempt  to  speak  in  pleasing  rhyme 
Of  that  which  Poets  long  have  sung, 

With  silvered  words  and  honey’d  tongue  ? 

Ho  ! I will  find  no  theme  in  these, 

Let  Poets  sing  them  if  they  please. 

But  to  us , this  day  ’twould  seem 
Demands  indeed  a different  theme. 


19 


This  wondrous  sphere  of  ours — alone 
Oan  see  an  image  of  its  own 
Reflected  in  this  College  home. 

Politicians  there  are  found, 

And  wire-pullers  there  abound : 

Freshmen,  assuming  the  airs  of  men, 

With  dignity  exceeding  mortal  ken, 

Stylish  beavers  on  their  heads 
As  free  from  hair*  as  Uncle  Ned’s : 

There  we  see  the  U.  S.  Senate, f 
Discussing  matters  most  important, 

So  lavish  with  appropriations, 

They  fairly  rival  greater  nations : 

War  bills  pass  with  one  expression, 
Denying  the  doctrine  of  Secession ; 

Here,  too,  an  administration 
Which  acts  with^rm  determination, 
Peaceful  policy  is  its  assertion, 

But  hesitates  not  to  use  coercion. 

Yes,  College  is  a curious  place — 

’Tis  a “ little  world  within  itself.” 

To-day,  to  these  we  bid  adieu — 

A great  stage  opens  on  our  view ; 

Our  Alma  Mater’s  last  farewell 
Rings  ’round  us  like  a funeral  knell ; 

Old  Father  Time,  who  knows  no  sleep, 

On  noiseless  wings  above  us  creeps ; 

With  scythe  in  hand,  remorseless  severs 
The  happy  hours  we’ve  spent  together. 

Great  men  who’ve  trod  those  halls  before  us, 
Examples  bright  are  shining  o’er  us : 

Every  comer,  nook  and  stone 
Is  dear  in  that  old  College  home. 

One  night,  whilst  in  deep  reverie  lost, 

With  mournful  thoughts  my  fancy  tossed, 
Whilst  I lay  perhaps  a dreaming, 

An  aged  form  before  me  seeming 
Stood.  A mantle  round  him  loosely  hung, 
White  as  the  foam  whence  Venus  sprung ; 
With  snowy  locks  dishevelled  flowing, 

His  curved  and  wrinkled  features  bowing, 
With  bony  hand  his  beard  he  stroked, 

And  thus  I thought  to  me  he  spoke : 


*The  Freshmen  wear  their  hair  “Dead  Rabbit.” 
tttermean  Society  resolved  into  a miniature  U.  S.  Senate. 


20 


“ Yonder  a lofty  mountain  raises 
Proudly  its  hoary  head. 

A golden  Temple  crowns  its  summit, 

Glittering  in  the  light  of  day, 

And  many  an  eager  eye  is  turned 
Wistfully  to  that  mountain  top. 

Along  the  mountain’s  side,  many 
Are  seen  to  wend  their  way ; 

And  toiling,  struggling  up  the 
Steep  straight  path,  come  forth 
From  that  Temple  clothed 
In  new  light. 

Wrapped  in  a mantle  of  learning, 

Heady  to  buffet  the  world’s  harsh  cares, 

And  strong  in  their  power  of  might, 

Eager  to  contend  with  their  fellow  men 
In  the  great  game  of  life,  and 
Buoyed  up  with  the 
Fire  and  fervor  of  youth, 

On,  on,  they  pass. 

Some  cry  Excelsior,  and  with 
Their  standard  planted  high, 

Climb,  Climb,  till  from 
The  high  pinnacle  of  Fame 
They  turn  to  receive  the 
Homage  of  their  fellow  men. 

Others,  with  less  ambitious  views, 

Having  felt  perhaps  in  life’s  first  morn 
The  chilly  touch  of  blighted  hopes, 

Or  shunned  by  Fortune’s  sweet  caress, 

Silently  pass  on,  to  fame  unknown, 

Content  with  the  riches  of  a mind  well  stored, 
And  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  a quiet  life, 
They  ask  no  greater  boon ; but  cherished 
In  the  hearts  of  a sacred  few, 

Sink  down  to  rest  in 
The  eternal  sleep  of  death. 

What  is  that  Golden  Temple  yonder 
On  the  mountain’s  crest  ? 

Whence  issue  one  by  one 
These  noble  bands  of  youth  ? 

Has  not  something  already  whispered, 

’Tis  the  ‘ Armory  of  Truth  !’  ” 

Thus  the  old  man  spoke ; 

And  as  fleecy  clouds  before  the  wind 


21 


Heavenward  fly,  so  he  disappeared. 

Brothers,  to-day  sends  forth  another 
Band.  We’ve  struggled,  toiled, 

The  summits  gained ; and  now,  prepared 
To  breast  the  world’s  rough  waves, 

We’ll  go,  determined  whate’er  our  fortunes  be, 

To  act  our  part  like  men  ! 

Four  years  of  time — . 

So  the  world  tells  us — all  have  passed  away 
Since  first  we  met  beneath  these  classic  walls 
To  learn  to  read  each  other’s  hearts. 

To  some,  a quiet  life  it’s  been ; to  others,  fraught 
With  every  shifting  scene ; and  to  all, 

Filled  with  the  bright  lessons  Wisdom’s  taught. 

The  bell  each  morn,  with  clanging,  clattering  tongue. 
Has  roused  each  dreamer  back  to  earth ; 

And  day  by  day  has  called  alike 

Each  careless,  thoughful  student 

To  that  sacred  house  where 

The  mingled  harmony  of  many-voiced  prayer 

Has  gently  risen  to  the  Throne  above. 

The  mom  has  blushed  at  Aurora’s  kiss, 

The  world  rolled  into  noon ; and  at  eve 
The  sunset  glory  flushed  the  golden  street. 

The  fluttering  leaves  have  drooped  to  mother  earth, 
The  frost  has  gemmed  the  crystal  pane, 

The  winter’s  touch  has  closed  the  Lake’s  blue  eye, 
And  laid  its  shroud  o’er  dead  summer’s  breast : 

The  gentle  breath  of  spring  has  drawn 
Cold  winter’s  winding  sheet : The  flowers 
Decked  with  every  hue,  with  sweetest  fragrance 
Fill  the  air : The  feathered  songsters 
Gaily  warble  from  each  leafy  bough, 

And,  lo  ! smiling  summer  has  come  again  ! 

Four  years  have  passed  since  first  we  spied 
Adown  the  aisle  of  years, 

This  day  of  days  towards  which  we’ve  hied 
With  mingled  hopes  and  fears ; 

But  that  which  bound  our  student  time 
Seems  only  just  begun, 

We  stand  where  we  have  tolled  to  climb, 

And  work  must  yet  be  done. 

All  the  festooned  folds  above  us 
Are  of  friendship’s  golden  hue ; 


22 


And  we  know  that  hearts  that  love  us 
Beat  in  every  breast  and  true ; 

And  in  every  eye  is  beaming 
That  which  we  cannot  speak, 

And  our  saddened  hearts  are  teeming 
With  the  love  we  would  not  break. 

Let  us  turn  and  look  behind  us, 

Down  the  crags  that  we  have  scaled; 
For  these  memories  all  remind  us, 

That  with  sternest  purpose  mailed, 
Led  by  duty  and  ambition, 

Though  unequal  be  the  strife, 

We  can  conquer  opposition 
In  the  upward  path  of  life. 

And  as  at  the  hour  of  even, 

When  the  daylight  drops  to  sleep, 

In  the  palace  halls  of  heaven 
Bright  stars  their  vigils  keep ; 

So  when  years  have  rolled  above  us, 

And  eternity  draws  nigh, 

We  can  see  bright  stars  above  us 
In  memory’s  placid  sky. 

As  when  one  leaves  his  native  land, 
Another  clime  to  wander  through, 

He  sees,  as  on  the  deck  he  stands, 

A home  now  fading  from  his  view ; 

So  let  us  now  cease  from  longing 
For  the  Future’s  golden  rays, 

Gazing  back  upon  the  thronging 
“ Memories  of  College  days.” 

These  pleasant  memories,  tinct  with  joy, 
Come  up  as  now  our  work  is  done, 

As  little  flecks  of  rosy  cloud 
Come  out  above  the  setting  sun. 

The  dear  old  recitation  room, 

The  well  known  faces  in  a row, 

The  little  ills  that  vexed  us  oft, 

And  many  things  that  pleased  us  so ; 

And  then  the  student’s  hearty  laugh — 
Always  so  round  and  full — 


3 


Which  seemed  to  shake  the  College  walls 
When  some  one  made  a bull ; 

And  when  the  winds  of  winter  blew, 

And  frosty  star-lights  twinkling  shone, 
We’d  gather  ’round  the  social  hearth 
To  tell  of  joys  now  dimmed  and  gone. 

The  Campus,  too,  could  tell  its  tale 
Of  Student’s  skill  and  strife ; 

And  loud  huzzahs  which  echo  forth, 

“ Success  in  Student  life !” 

How  oft  we’ve  spread  the  snowy  sail 
On  yonder  crystal  Lake, 

Our  light  bark  dancing  o’er  the  waves, 
Whilst  round  us  billows  break ; 

Or,  manning  each  a sturdy  oar, 

We’d  swiftly  speed  along, 

The  dipping  strokes  in  unison 
With  the  music  of  our  song. 

When  silver  dew-drops  radiant  beam, 
And  trembling  stars  pale  vigils  keep ; 
When  moonshine  floweth  like  a stream, 
And  shadows  o’er  the  landscape  creep : 

How  often  then  we’ve  wandered  forth, 
When  heart  to  heart  would  speak ; 

And  loving  eyes  and  blushing  cheeks 
A glance,  tho’  shunned,  would  seek. 

These  are  the  precious  memories, 

That  go  with  us  as  we  roam, 

With  our  mother’s  parting  blessing, 

As  we  leave  our  College  home. 

But  in  every  cup  of  gladness, 

Tho’  filled  e’en  to  the  brim, 

’Tis  strange  a drop  of  sadness 
Must  surely  enter  in. 

When  e’er  I grasp  a class-mate’s  hand, 
And  kindly  words  be  spoken, 

Sad  memory  breathes  a tearful  word, 

“ A band  already  broken !” 


24 


A smiling  face  I see, 

A class-mate’s  hand  gives  me 
Gentlest  greeting ; 

That  hand  lies  low  in  dust, 

That  heart  to  piece  we  trust 

Stilled  its  beating. 

Above  the  music’s  swell, 

The  slowly  tolling  bell 

Bears  on  the  breeze, 

A mournful  funeral  knell 

For  this  our  brother,  who  sleeps  well 

Beneath  the  grave-yard’s  trees. 

From  the  heavenly  glory  spread, 

Thro’  high  arches  overhead, 

An  angel  voice  replied : 

“ Henceforward  blessed  are  the  dead, 

Who  in  the  Lord  have  died !” 

To-day  our  College  life  is  o’er ! 

For  us  the  mournful  word  no  more, 

Like  far-off  broken  surges  roar 
On  some  high  and  rock  bound  shore, 

Is  spoken  sad  and  low. 

’Tis  written  in  these  happy  years, 

With  all  their  hopes  and  all  their  fears ; 

’Tis  written  in  each  class-mate’s  tears, 

As  now  the  hour  of  parting  nears, 

When  we  must  go. 

The  Future  stands  all  bright  and  fair, 

Her  hands  the  unopen  volume  bear : 

She  bids  us  haste  that  we  may  share 
The  honors  that  are  written  there ; 

And  proud  hope  beckoning  calls. 

Her  eager  voice  is  full  of  cheer ; 

But  memory  urges,  “ tany  here !” 

The  music  of  the  past  is  dear, 

And  softly  on  the  listening  ear 

Her  gentle  whisper  falls. 

But  duty  calls,  we  must  obey, 

We  cannot  linger  here ; 

Let  pleasant  memories  chase  away 
The  cares  of  days  more  drear. 


25 


To-day  a voice  rings  through  this  land — 

A voice  indeed  far  stranger 
Than  that  which  e’er  was  heard  before, 

“ Our  country  is  in  danger !” 

It  tells  us  of  a battle  field — 

A stern  and  deadly  strife — 

Where  we  must  overcome  or  yield 
The  noblest  aim  of  life. 

The  glorious  banner  of  the  free  ! 

The  symbol  of  all  that’s  just ! 

By  traitor’s  hands  has  been  disgraced, 

And  humbled  in  the  dust. 

Beneath  that  flag  our  father’s  fought ; 

And  blood  in  torrents  run 
That  we  might  live  as  freemen  here, 

And  Tyrant’s  power  shun  ! 

Then,  brothers,  when  our  country  calls, 

O,  bravely  struggle  then ; 

And  when  the  deadly  strife  grows  warm, 

We’ll  prove  ourselves  right  valient  men  I 

And  should  the  traitors’  whisper  low, 

That  war’s  a weary  thing, 

That  better  we  might  trust  the  foe 
And  take  the  terms  they  bring ; 

O,  faithful  be  your  answer  given : 

“ No  rest  until  the  strife  is  striven  !” 

Go  then,  brothers,  choose  your  life’s  work ; 

But  whatever  be  the  plan, 

Let  there  be  in  all  its  purpose 
Nothing  meaner  than  the  man  ! 

This  afternoon,  upon  the  College  green, 

We’ll  gather  once  again  a class  complete 
To  tell  the  story  of  our  College  life, 

And  add  one  more  bright  garland  to  the  wreath 
Cf  sunny  memories  that  crowns  the  days ; 

Once  more  thro’  all  the  emerald  domes  shall  ring 
Our  classmates’  voices  in  the  hearty  song, 

Till  the  soft  winds  that  listen  in  the  trees 
Shall  hear  our  last  farewells,  and  whisper  them 
In  low  sweet  music  round  the  silent  walls. 


26 


Brothers,  faithful,  earnest  hearted, 
Pledge  the  memories  of  yore, 

While  we  sing  of  joys  departed, 

And  the  days  of  nevermore : 

While  the  hands  that  soon  must  sever 
Clasp  once  more  in  friendship  true, 
Plight  we  now  our  faith  forever, 

As  we  say  our  last  adieu ! 

Brothers,  in  these  halls  of  learning 
All  too  swift  the  years  have  flown, 
Now  our  hearts  are  sadly  turning 
Toward  the  days  forever  gone ; 

But  from  out  the  Past’s  dim  portal 
Cheering  voices  sweetly  tell, 
Memory  makes  these  scenes  immortal,. 
Though  we  bid  them  all  farewell ! 


REMARKS  OF  CHAS.  T.  OGDEN 

ON  PRESENTING,  IN  BEHALF  OF  THE  SENIOR  CLASS,  AN 
INDIAN  PADDLE  TO  THE  JUNIOR  CLASS. 


Fellow  Students,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

We  have  met  together  at  an  unpropitious  hour,  to  celebrate  a day 
which  we  fondly  hope  will  be  hereafter  set  apart  and  observed — a day 
that  will  strengthen  in  the  highest  degree  all  our  warm  affections  for  our 
Alma  Mater,  and  tend  more  than  all  others  to  promote  that  friendly  feel- 
ing and  brotherly  love  which  should  fill  the  hearts  of  those  who,  associa- 
ting together  for  long  years,  are  now  about  to  separate  forever.  The  voice  of 
war  penetrating  our  quiet  abode  of  learning  has  lessened  that  interest 
which  prompted  all  to  so  laudable  an  undertaking,  and  has  thrilled  every 
heart  with  the  longing  for  action  rather  than  with  the  desire  to  establish 
a day  of  mirth  and  pleasure  for  future  generations. 

The  most  glowing  descriptions  of  a once  powerful  nation,  of  whom 
scanty  relics  alone  remain  to  tell  of  their  former  greatness ; the  most 


2 1 


graphic  recital  of  their  sylvan  abodes  and  dream-like  life ; the  most  stirring 
accounts  of  their  exploits  in  war  against  other  savage  tribes,  will  possess 
little  of  interest  to  your  active  minds,  striving  with  all  their  powers  to 
discern  the  future.  But  with  all  the  discouragements  which  oppose  my 
design  of  awakening  your  sympathy  for  the  fate  of  a powerful  tribe,  whose 
birchen  bark  once  glided  peacefully  on  the  silvery  bosom  of  yon  fair  lake, 
I have  no  less  a duty  to  perform  in  bringing  to  light  a recent  discovery, 
which  may  tend  in  some  measure  to  endear  to  your  memory  those  noble 
sons  of  the  forest. 

“ Realm  of  the  Senecas ; no  more 
In  shadow  lies  the  pleasant  vale. 

Gone  are  the  Chiefs  who  ruled  of  yore. 

Like  chaff  before  the  rushing  gale : 

Fled  are  their  pomps  and  power  like  dreams, 

By  scribe  unmarked,  by  hard  unsung  ; 

But  mountains,  lakes,  and  rolling  streams 
Recall  their  wild  rich  forest  tongue, 

And  names  of  melody  they  hear 
Sweeter  than  flute  notes  on  the  air.” 

Who  has  not  listened  with  wonder  to  the  legend  of  the  Seneca  ? How 
Agayenteh,  a young  and  haughty  chief,  impelled  by  an  evil  spirit,  broke 
in  anger  from  the  councils  of  the  nation,  and  guiding  his  frail  bark  to  a 
distance  from  the  multitude  assembled  on  the  shady  bank,  threw  in  his 
line  in  disobedience  of  the  commands  of  the  Great  Spirit : how,  on  the 
instant,  fearful  lightnings  rent  the  air — deep  prolonged  thunders  mut- 
tered a curse  upon  his  head : how  the  earth  heaved,  and  the  waters,  moved 
by  a mighty  wind,  removed  from  their  sight  the  boat  of  Agayenteh,  and 
then  all  was  quiet  save  the  gentle  ripple  of  the  waves. 

Gentlemen,  it  has  been  reserved  for  the  class  of  “ 61  ” to  show  to  the 
world  that  this  same  Indian  legend  is  not  without  foundation ; for  a labori- 
ous research  has  disclosed  the  fact  that  this  priceless  relic  of  the  past  was 
once  the  paddle  of  that  Indian  warrior.  And  now  having  guided  our 
bark  safely  through  the  shoals  and  quicksands  of  College  life,  we  have 
determined  to  leave  the  same  within  those  walls,  not  only  to  be  held  as 
sacred  on  account  of  its  antiquity,  but  as  a dreadful  warning  to  those  who 
are  inclined  to  disobey  prescribed  laws  and  acknowledged  authority. 

About  two  years  ago,  in  the  month  of  September,  I chanced  to  stray  on 
the  borders  of  the  lake,  and  reaching  the  opposite  side,  my  attention  was 
attracted  by  the  working  of  a machine  employed  in  widening  the  outlet. 
While  standing  on  the  flat-boat  which  received  the  contents  of  the  shovel, 
I noticed  several  Indian  arrow  heads,  and  in  my  search  for  more  I found, 
in  addition  to  the  flints,  three  Indian  hatchets,  a human  skull,  a curiously 
wrought  polished  stone,  and  the  present  paddle.  From  these  relics  I in- 
ferred that  the  spot  had  been  the  final  resting  place  of  some  long  deceased 


28 


Indian  Warrior.  Nor  was  I mistaken ; for  by  a careiul  study  of  the  stonef 
combined  with  my  previous  knowledge  of  Indian  hieroglyphics,  I decipher- 
ed  that  the  elevation  in  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  stone  corresponded  to 
the  Indian  Go-nun-de-wah,  or  Great  Hill — the  supposed  origin  of  the 
Seneca  tribe,  and  plainly  declaring  his  nation.  In  the  centre  a bounding 
deer,  a well-known  symbol  to  portray  a chief  of  the  Senecas,  attested  the 
rank  of  the  departed ; while  in  the  lower  portion  of  the  stone  a broken 
boat,  lying  upon  huge  billows,  attested  the  manner  of  his  death.  From 
these  minutiae,  we  have  perfect  confidence  in  the  deduction  that  we  pos- 
sess the  paddle  of  that  Indian  Warrior  Agayenteh. 

And  now,  gentlemen,  while  about  to  commit  this  treasure  to  other  hands 
for  safe  keeping,  allow  me  to  add  a few  words  of  advice  and  admonition^ 
We  are  about  to  entrust  to  your  care  a key  to  the  past.  A clew  as  it  were 
to  the  secrets  of  centuries.  All  doubts  and  uncertainties  which  have  here- 
tofore puzzled  the  minds  of  the  learned  as  to  the  credibility  of  this  ancient 
legend,  are  now  entirely  removed.  It  is,  therefore,  on  account  of  its  in- 
estimable historic  character  that  you  are  to  prize  and  preserve  it.  You 
are  the  first  link  in  the  endless  chain  which  shall  become  attached  to  this 
endeared  memento.  It  rests  with  you  to  impart  with  fidelity  an  accurate 
account  of  its  former  possessorship.  To  what  a depth  of  mental  anguish 
and  cruel  torture  would  we  be  driven ; what  a weight  of  sorrow  and  mis- 
ery would  fall  upon  us ; what  a dismal  world,  with  its  blasted  hopes  and 
withered  lives,  did  we  suppose  for  a moment  that  the  truth  committed  to 
you  this  day,  through  our  neglect,  would  ever  be  commingled  with  the 
base  fabrications  of  daring  innovators.  And  again,  beware  lest  the  love 
of  sordid  gold  prevail  over  your  upright  principles ; for  soon,  when  Rumor 
shall  have  noised  abroad  that  you  possess  a treasure  from  the  store-house 
of  antiquity,  some  owner  of  mermaids  wTill  seek  to  add  this  also  as  an  at- 
tractive feature  to  his  hoarded  relics. 

Be  faithful  to  your  trust,  and  the  present  generation  will  not  alone  award 
you  a full  mede  of  praise ; but  centuries  hence  your  names  will  be  en- 
rolled among  those  who  loved  their  fellow-men.  And  finally,  you  are  to 
guard  and  protect  it  for  the  tender  memories  and  dear  associations  which 
cluster  around  it.  You  are  to  esteem  and  revere  it  for  the  silent  language 
which  it  will  ever  proclaim  to  the  sorrowing  hearts  of  each  departing 
class  with  whom  it  shall  have  been  entrusted.  Even  now  the  memory  of 
our  voyage  through  College  life  would  fain  dwell  longer  to  recount  the 
many  adventures  and  passing  scenes  which  crowded  on  our  course.  How 
inexperienced  hands  could  scarcely  keep  our  tottering  boat  from  beneath 
the  water  falls  with  which  the  artful  Sophomores  threatened  to  engulph 
us ; and  having  passed  this  port  in  our  onward  course,  how  the  more 
dreadful  Scilla  and  Charybdis  of  suspension  and  expulsion  struck  terror  to 


29 


our  hearts,  while  forgetful  of  our  own,  we  kindly  offered  our  assistance 
to  guide  a more  verdant  craft.  In  Junior  year,  how  lovely  Circean  maidens 
would  beckon  us  from  our  path  with  their  fairy  forms  and  lovely  smiles, 
and  we  would  gladly  yield  to  their  many  allurements.  These  recollec- 
tions crowd  upon  us ; but  alas,  the  present  warns  us  that, 


The  Senior  boat  has  reached  the  other  shore, 

O’er  is  our  College  life,  its  emblem,  too,  is  oar  ; 
Take  it  and  guard  it  nobly,  I Implore. 

In  times  to  come.  Let  all  who  fondly  pore 
O’er  this  sole  i*elic  of  the  days  of  yore. 

Fraught  with  deep  spells  of  cabalistic  lore, 
Remember  us,  who  from  this  paddle  tox‘e 
Oblivions  gloomy  pall  that  veiled  it  o’er ; 

And  on  the  thi’eshold  of  their  College  door 
To  6ixty-one,  who  bravely  went  before, 

A full  and  glorious  libation  pore, 

With  may  a long  and  lingering  Enchore , 

In  memory  of  those  days  that  will  return  no  more  1 


IN  BEHALF  OF  THE  JUNIOR  CLASS. 


Sir  -In  receiving  this  paddle,  this  memorial,  this  inheritance  from 
yourself,  as  representing  the  class  of  1861,  allow  me  to  say,  that  the  class 
of  1862,  of  which  I have  the  honor  to  be  the  exponent,  wTill  never  prove 
itself  false  or  recreant  to  the  trust  thus  committed  to  their  care.  But, 
after  the  class  of  ’61  has  departed  from  the  classic  realm  of  “ Old  Hobart,” 
and  is  sent  forth  upon  the  great  battle-field  of  life,  the  class  of ’62,  pre- 
serving this  paddle  until  the  time  shall  come  for  its  exodus,  shall  pass  it 
on  to  the  class  below,  with  many  injunctions  to  do  their  duty  as  regards 
it,  well  and  faithfully  living  up  to  the  spirit  and  genius  of  the  glorious 
institution  thus  commenced  and  founded. 

What  a thrill  of  pleasure  will  strike  upon  your  heart,  sir,  when  in  some 
future  day — say,  for  instance,  the  year  9,999,  when  the  site  of  Hobart  will 
cover  three  counties  of  the  Empire  State — you  shall  unconsciously  wend 
your  way  towards  your  Alma  Mater,  and  see  this  identical  paddle  which 
in  your  youthful  wanderings  you  exhumed  from  the  grave  of  centuries. 
You  undoubtedly  will  sigh,  sir,  for  your  youthful  days,  and  look  with 
grief  upon  your  once  raven  locks,  fast  becoming  white  from  exposure  to 
the  sorrows  of  8,158  winters.  Then,  sir,  and  not  till  then  will  you  look 
with  joy  upon  the  days  of  horizontal  parallax,  and  spherical  aberration. 


30 


Looking  through  the  telescope  of  your  mincl,  of  course  taking  into  con- 
sideration Astronomical  Refraction  and  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  you 
will  find  the  right  ascension  and  declination  of  those  scales  you  loved  so 
well,  and  linger  around  them  until  the  earth,  having  completed  its  diur- 
nal revolution,  shall  warn  you  to  change  your  zenith  and  place  yourself 
<on  a plane  parallel  to  the  horizon. 

Yes,  you  have  truly  said,  sir,  that  this  paddle  bears  with  it  a fearful 
warning.  It  is  pregnant  with  emblematic  truth.  Each  time  that  we 
behold  it  the  terrible  fate  of  the  Indian  war-chief  Agayenteh,  who  spurn- 
ed with  contempt  the  commands  of  the  Great  Spirit,  will  dance  athwart 
our  mind’s  vision,  causing  a shudder  through  the  stoutest  frame,  and  ad- 
monishing all,  that  although  the  fat  old  Roman  poet  Horace,  uttered 
those  remarkable  words,  “ Pone  me"  yet  it  is  better,  far  better  to  lexicon- 
ize,  and  dig  out  musty  classics  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow.  The  days  of 
bolts  will  now  have  passed  into  a grave  of  oblivion ; no  more  will  the 
face  of  General  Damages  be  seen  squinting  around  smashed  back-stoops 
and  broken  window  sashes,  and  no  more  will  gigantic  and  ponderous 
bills  for  contingents  greet  our  astonished  gaze. 

The  class  of ’62,  full  of  grateful  remembrance  to  the  class  of ’61,  using 
this  paddle  will  endeavor  to  steer  adown  the  stream  of  College  life,  avoid- 
ing the  whirlpools  which  may  threaten  to  engulph  it.  When  the  haven 
where  it  would  be  is  at  last  reached,  when  ’62  shall  have  a wife  and  be- 
come a candidate  for  the  silver  cup , he  shall  relate  to  the  prattling  young- 
ster upon  his  knee  the  awful  wonders  and  lessons  of  this  mysterious  pad_ 
file. 

Members  of  the  class  of  1861.  You  are  upon  the  eve  of  your  departure 
from  places  beloved  and  hallowed.  You  are  about  to  leave  the  College 
halls  which  for  the  last  four  years  have  re-echoed  to  your  footsteps.  You 
are  to  separate  yourself,  perhaps  forever,  from  scenes  and  ties  of  friend- 
ship, which,  whilst  living  will  cluster  around  your  hearts,  and  when 
dead  shall  not  be  forgotten.  This  day  witnesses  the  termination  of  your 
College  career.  This  day  beholds  you  assembled  together,  as  a body,  for 
perhaps  the  last  time.  Check  not  the  outgushing  of  the  fountain  which 
comes  bubbling  up  from  the  seat  of  friendship  and  love.  Brush  not 
away  the  tear  which  starts  from  your  eye,  for  it  looks  not  unmanly  to 
see  it  glistening  upon  your  cheek.  Your  accustomed  presence  around 
Hobart  will  be  greatly  missed.  Your  seats  in  that  chapel  where  twice 
each  day  we  may  be  seen  uniting  in  prayer  and  praise  to  our  Common 
Rather,  will  now  be  filled  by  others.  The  superior  voice  which  you  ob- 
tained by  virtue  of  your  seniority  in  all  college  affairs,  will  no  longer  be 
heard.  Another  class — the  class  of  1862 — now  takes  your  place,  and  in 
the  name  of  that  class  permit  me  to  tell  you  that  it  will  strain  every 


31 


nerve  to  perform  with  honor  each  part  that  is  bequeathed  to  it  by  its 
illustrious  predecessor,  the  class  of ’61. 

Members  of  the  class  of  ’61 : In  the  name  of  the  class  which  I upon 
this  occasion  represent,  I bid  you  a last  farewell.  Farewell  1 — how  that 
word  awakens  the  sympathetic  bosom,  and  bids  each  finer  feeling  of  our 
human  nature  start  forth  into  action.  We  linger  and  hesitate  before  we 
pronounce  it.  But  it  must  be  spoken — Farewell — Farewell. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  CLASS  OF  ’61. 

BY  MARTIN  COOPER. 


Motto — “ Semper  Paratus.” 


INTRODUCTION. 

If  a history  of  the  class  of ’61  were  written  out  in  detail,  by  an  accom- 
plished historian,  it  would  be  one  of  the  most  interesting,  thrilling  and 
instructive  volumes  of  literature  the  world  ever  saw ; for  we  may  safely 
say,  there  never  was  a class  in  Hobart  College,  nor  any  other  college, 
whose  career  was  more  replete  with  soul-stirring  events  and  proofs  of 
what  genius  can  accomplish,  when  properly  directed,  than  is  the  illustri- 
ous and  glorious  college  career  of  the  class  of  ’61.  This  class  in  spite  of 
suspensions,  expulsions  and  war’s  alarms,  is  larger  than  any  class  that 
ever  graduated  from  Hobart  before. 

Many  disconnected  events  in  the  real  history  of  this  class  are  already 
familiar  to  the  people  of  Geneva ; while  its  songs,  its  daring  deeds,  and 
hair-breadth  escapes  are  sung  with  rapture  and  told  over  rmid  peals  of 
laughter  in  every  State  of  our  Union.  The  history  of  the  class  of  ’61 
dates  back  to  September  1st,  1857.  Therefore,  to  attempt  to  write  a his- 
tory of  events  that  have  constantly  been  transpiring,  in  as  copius  a style 
as  even  that  of  Thucydides,  would  be  to  swell  this  mere  compendium 
into  a volume  that  would  require  a week  to  peruse.  But,  class-mates, 
we  have  endeavored  to  make  brevity  the  soul  of  wit,  in  order  that,  by  the 
time  your  farewell  pipes  are  smoked  out,  we  shall  have  done  reading  the 
history  of  our  College  days,  which  we  have  at  your  request  penned. 


32 


We  have  purposely  abstained  from  mentioning  any  of  those  scrapes 
which  we  were  not  confident  were  originated  by  members  of  this  class. 
We  will  not  speak  now  of  any  such  tricks  as  breaking  into  the  Janitor’s 
cellar,  placing  cayene  pepper  on  the  stove  to  raise  the  temperature  of  the 
room,  nor  of  dining  at  a late  hour  on  Faculty  grapes  and  Faculty  ale ; nor 
of  the  greasing  of  black  boards,  and  the  throwing  of  Freshmen  and  fur- 
niture into  the  lake  after  smoking  them  out.  But  we  would  refer  in  this 
history  to  the  sublimer  scrapes,  which  always  went  off  best  on  a stormy 
night,  when  the  rain-drops  fell  thick  and  fast,  and  when  the  muttering 
thunders  kept  all  but  the  daring  members  of  ’61  in  their  rooms.  Then  it 
was  that  ’61  enacted  deeds  which  make  “ Tom  Brown  at  Oxford,”  and 
other  College  scrapes  read  like  children’s  stories.  We  shall  dwell  longer 
on  the  events  of  Freshman  year,  as  they  were  times  which  “ tried  men’s 
souls and  then  hasten  our  history  to  this  eventful  day,  the  proceedings 
of  which  will  ever  be  remembered  with  the  greatest  interest  by  all  who 
participated  in  its  pleasures  and  its  joys. 


CHAPTER  I. 

On  the  2d  of  September,  seventeen  rather  diminutive  looking  Freshmen 
were  assembled  around  Tutor  Dunbar,  within  the  walls  of  Hobart  Col- 
lege. What  were  they  doing  there  ? They  were  busily  engaged  in 
trying  to  translate  the  preface  of  Livy’s  History  of  Rome.  Strangers  to 
Geneva,  to  the  Faculty,  and  to  one  another.  Having  presented  Dr.  Hale 
with  a huge  bundle  of  testimonials  of  good  moral  character,  they  were 
about  commencing  that  illustrious  College  career  which  is  now  about  to 
close.  The  recitation  is  soon  over,  and  Tutor  and  Freshmen  go  back  to 
their  rooms  through  showers  of  water.  At  4 o’clock  the  old  College  bell 
again  calls  them  together  to  recite  a few  lines  in  Xenephon’s  celebrated 
Cyropedia,  under  the  instruction  of  Prof.  Wheeler.  The  Henoia  poth 
hamin  hegeneto  is  rendered  satisfactorily,  and  they  are  again  dismissed ; 
but  as  soon  as  their  diminutive  forms  appear  in  front  of  the  College  build- 
ings, 0 Tempora , O Moses,  buckets  of  water,  describing  in  their  descent 
parabolas  with  mathematical  precision,  cause  them  to  look  up  and  trem- 
ble at  their  fate,  and  scatter  sine  mora , in  all  directions.  Night  comes  on 
— the  first  night  the  class  of  ’61  ever  spent  within  College  walls ; and 
when  its  deep  darkness  has  involved  the  world  in  sleep,  the  exiled  Fresh- 
men have  their  cogitations  of  home  and  absent  friends  distracted  by  loud 
thunders  at  their  doors,  and  by  the  entrance  of  not  less  than  a dozen  vil- 
lainous Sophomores,  armed  to  the  teeth  with  clay  pipes,  oyster  cans  filled 
with  tobacco,  and  meerchaums.  They  unceremoniously  seat  themselves, 
and  begin  to  entertain  the  Freshmen  by  telling  old  College  tales,  and  by 
blowing  huge  curly  spires  of  tobacco  smoke  from  their  smoking  apparatus. 


The  smoke  soon  became  thick  enough  to  cut  in  slices,  when  Freshmen, 
Sophomores  and  all,  seemed  like  ghosts  of  the  departed  crossing  the  Stygian 
wave ; and  the  horrid  barking  of  old  Babcock,  more  dismal  amid  the 
smoke  than  the  howls  of  the  triple-jawred  Ceberus  himself.  Twelve  o’- 
clock of  the  first  night  came ; but  alas,  alas,  the  Sophs,  were  still  prowling 
around,  bearing  large  pails  of  water,  and  well  charged  squirt  guns,  and 
woe  to  those  members  of ’61  who  were  then  sleeping;  for  the  bloody 
Sophs,  came  upon  them  as  so  many  demons  of  the  ocean,  and  washed 
them  completely  out  of  their  couches. 

Such  was  the  existing  state  of  affairs  during  the  first  three  weeks  of  our 
College  life,  when  our  first  class  meeting  was  held.  That  meeting  was 
called  for  the  purpose  of  concerting  and  adopting  plans  for  mutual  defence 
against  the  Sophs.  Mr.  Perrine  arose  and  said,  it  was  his  opinion  that 
forbearance  had  ceased  to  be  a virtue,  that  several  members  of  the  class 
had  been  basely  insulted ; he  therefore  moved  that  the  members  of  ’61 
pledge  their  sacred  honor  in  defence  of  one  another.  The  sentiments  of 
the  members  having  been  very  freely  expressed,  Mr.  Perrine’s  motion 
was  unanimously  adopted.  That  resolution  was  the  pulling  off  of  the 
Lion’s  skin  from  the  asses,  yclept  the  class  of  ’60.  Their  cowardice  ever 
after  rendered  them  subjects  for  general  ridicule  and  laughter.  But  the 
class  of  ’61  were  from  that  time  invincible.  So  great  is  the  power  of 
unity,  and  so  many  are  the  blessings  of  Union.  Of  the  seventeen  men 
that  then  constituted  the  class  of  ’61,  only  nine  have  followed  it  through- 
out its  various  fortunes,  and  will  graduate  with  it. 

Being  now  no  longer  molested  by  the  Sophs.,  and  having  become  well 
acquainted  with  one  another,  they  began  again  their  Freshmen  tricks,  and 
comical  capers  generally.  The  first  scrape  they  got  into  was  plotted  du- 
ring a social  time  at  the  Gem ; it  was  a complete  success.  And  so  un- 
satisfactory were  the  old  College  capers,  that  we  always  got  up  our  plots 
to  suit  the  occasion  and  the  daring  spirit  of  the  class.  “ Never  in  the  his- 
tory of  Hobart  College,”  said  Dr.  Metcalf,  “ did  a Freshman  class  cut 
up  so  many  moonshines.”  Contingents  were  never  so  high  as  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  second  term ; and  yet  only  one  man  was  suspended 
during  the  first  long  term  of  sixteen  weeks.  This  unfortunate  man  was 
popular  among  his  class-mates,  always  ready  to  lend  his  aid  in  any  man- 
ner that  would  contribute  to  Tutor  Dunbar’s  happiness,  and  so  the  class 
had  reason  for  regretting  that  one  of  their  Rising  stars  was  so  soon 
obliged  to  leave.  A desperate  attempt  was  made  to  get  him  back.  Peti- 
tions were  sent  into  the  Faculty,  but  all  in  vain ; Dr.  Wilson,  who  was 
then  President,  pro  tempore , is  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  reverse  a de- 
cision once  made ; and  as  he  can  prove  by  logic  that  any  man  is  in  the 
wrong,  even  when  he  is  right,  he  can  always  sustain  his  position.  Mr. 


34 


Heber  Smith,  who  was  then  President  of  the  class,  appointed  Mr.  Dutf 
to  hand  in  a petition  to  the  Faculty  in  regard  to  the  affair.  In  consequence 
of  which  Mr.  Duff  was  accused  of  bootlicking  the  Faculty,  and-  together 
with  Mr.  Charles  Allen,  voted  out  of  class  meetings,  hut  was  voted 
hack  again  during  the  second  term  Freshman. 

Thanksgiving  day  was  then  near  at  hand,  and  as  many  of  the  members 
had  not  become  thoroughly  domesticated  in  College  life,  they  resolved  to 
have  an  entertainment  for  the  purpose  of  attaching  themselve&more  close- 
ly to  their  Alma  Mater,  and  at  the  same  time  to  detach  themselves  more 
effectually  from  their  original  Maters,  whom  they  had  several  weeks  be- 
ore  left  at  home.  Their  modus  operandi  was  an  improvement  on  that 
adopted  by  Robinson  Crusoe,  when  he  drowned  thoughts  of  home  with  a 
glass  of  whiskey  punch ; for  in  addition  to  that  indispensable  article,  the 
class  had  a good  supply  of  Oysters,  wine,  crackers,  &c.  During  the  en- 
tertainment, which  was  held  at  No.  1 Geneva  Hall,  a room  occupied  by 
Teall,  some  members  of  the  Faculty  came  to  the  door  and  applied  for 
admission ; but  as  it  was  exclusively  a class  affair  they  were  of  course  re1- 
fused.  The  room  was  alive  with  mirth  and  jollity,  and  filled  with  dense 
clouds  of  tobacco  smoke.  About  two  o’clock  the  guests  departed  for  their 
various  couches,  most  of  them  accompanied  by  friends  to  prevent  their 
running  jnto  the  Faculty,  as  they  felt  highly  indignant  towards  that  dis- 
tinguished body.  The  mercenary  Faculty,  however,  charged  Teall  five 
dollars  for  the  right  to  give  an  entertainment,  and  the  class  five  dollars' 
more  for  accepting  of  an  invitation  to  a quiet  College  party. 

Our  history  now  treats  of  the  energetic  manner  in  which  the  class  of 
’61  trained  Tutor  Dunbar  out  of  College.  It  had  in  its  course  thus  far, 
enjoyed  the  instructions  of  Prof.  Wheeler  in  the  Greek  language ; but 
the  Faculty,  in  their  wisdom,  saw  fit  to  substitute  Tutor  Dunbar  as  in- 
structor in  the  Cyropedia,  as  the  Prof,  was  not  thought  competent  to  teach 
Greek  as  difficult  as  most  of  Xenephon’s  works.  This  caused  a general 
dissatisfaction  among  the  members  of  the  class,  and  thinking  they  might 
again  recite  to  Prof.  W.  if  Dunbnr  was  removed,  they  resolved  to  train 
him  out  of  College.  Accordingly  they  went  into  the  recitation  room  with 
pockets  filled  with  torpedoes,  Cayenne  pepper,  and  a supply  of  assafoetida, 
and  while  the  bell  was  tolling,  and  Tutor  D.  was  cramming  up  his  Greek, 
they  amused  themselves  by  throwing  their  torpedoes  and  chapeux  at  his 
caput ; and  whilst  one  was  translating,  the  remainder  kept  up  a perfect 
shower  of  torpedoes,  kicked  over  the  benches,  and  engaged  in  many  other 
elegant  occupations  of  alike  description.  He  would  often  enquire,  “ Did 
you  tip  that  bench  over  ?”  but  after  asking  the  same  question  just  sixteen 
times,  he  must  have  been  convinced  that  the  benches  fell  over  entirely  of 
their  own  accord.  The  Janitor  had  orders  at  last  to  nail  the  benches 


down ; but  even  nails  refuse  to  hold,  so  prone  were  they  to  fall  over  and 
break  their  backs.  The  gallant  Dunbar  viewed  all  these  performances 
unmoved ; but  when  the  fragrant  fumes  of  Cayenne  pepper,  mingled  with 
the  odorous  exhalations  of  assafoetida,  arose  from  the  stove,  then  it  was 
that  the  almost  suffocated  Tutor  hurled  forth  fearful  anathemas  against 
the  class,  and  precipitately  rushed  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  the  vic- 
torious ’61. 

It  was  night.  Tutor  Dunbar  was  in  his  room,  wasting  the  midnight 
oil  over  his  Cyropedia,  when  all  at  once  his  attention  was  attracted  by 
countless  pieces  of  anthracite  coal,  which  having  passed  through  his  win- 
dows, were  rattling  around  his  head  in  a most  promiscuous  manner.  But 
still  Dunbar,  like  Poe’s  Crow,  remained  undaunted,  although  desolate, 
until  the  term  closed,  when  he  took  his  departure  for  the  Theological 
Seminary. 

The  examinations  were  then  at  hand,  and  as  it  was  the  first  College  ex- 
amination of  the  class  of  ’61,  they  applied  themselves  diligently  to  cram- 
ming, and  making  careful  preparations  for  smouging.  This  ordeal  was  suc- 
cessfully passed  by  all  the  class ; and  they  finished  their  arduous  labors 
of  the  term  by  issuing  about  two  thousand  most  excellent  burlesques  on 
the  Sophomore  blow  of  the  class  of  ’60,  after  which  the  College  was  ad- 
journed for  two  weeks. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Christmas  vacation  passed,  and  the  old  bell  again  called  the  students  of 
Hobart  College  together  in  the  Chapel,  among  whom,  arranged  on  the 
back  seats,  was  the,  as  yet,  non-matriculated  class  of  ’61,  greatly  refresh- 
ed by  home  influences,  and  well  prepared  for  another  vigorous  campaign. 
But  alas  ! Autumn,  with  its  delicious  and  seductive  fruits,  had  long  since 
-departed.  Prex’s.  grape-vines  were  divested  of  all  their  luscious  clusters ; 
nor  did  the  apple  trees  longer  attract  the  attention  of  the  class  of  ’61. — 
Old  Winter,  with  his  boreal  blasts  and  drifting  snows,  reigned  supreme, 
so  the  class  could  improve  but  little  on  the  programme  laid  down  by  the 
Faculty.  Dunbar  had  departed,  and  there  was  little  more  to  attract  at- 
tention from  Geometry,  Hannibal’s  Exploits  with  the  Romans,  and  Ovid’s 
Nursery  Stories,  than  the  whistling  of  the  winds  around  the  College  walls 
and  the  merry  sissing  of  the  kettle  on  the  stove ; consequently  the  class 
made  very  rapid  progress  in  the  above-mentioned  studies.  It  was  during 
this  term  that  the  Faculty  deprived  us  of  the  presence  of  IIeber  Smith, 
so  that  only  fifteen  original  members  of  the  class  remained. 


CHAPTER  III. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  third  term,  M.  B.  Folwell  commenced  his 
College  life  as  a member  of  the  class  of  ’61,  also  J.  H.  H.  Millett,  Esq., 


36 


A.  B.,  then  commenced  his  celebrated  College  career ; consequently  the 
class  numbered  as  many  as  it  did  before  the  odorous  compounds  were 
placed  on  the  stove,  and  before  Prof.  Wheeler’s  keg  of  ale  was  appro- 
priated by  its  members.  The  class  amused  themselves  this  short  term  by 
singing  the  hexameter  songs  of  Homer  to  Prof.  Wheeler,  and  the  some- 
what questionable  odes  of  Old  Horace  to  Dr.  Metcalf  ; digging  into  the 
mysteries  of  conic  sections ; studying  the  laws  of  permutations,  as  laid 
down  by  Hoyle;  and  reading  in  the  original  text  a great  part  of  Paul’s 
Epistles  to  the  Thesselonians.  It  was  at  this  time  that  the  sobriquet  of 
Leather  was  applied  to  Dr.  Metcalf  ; by  whom  was  never  known,  al- 
though it  has  clung  to  him  ever  since ; but  we  feel  assured  that  the  title 
is  not  appropriate,  and  only  a dM-aphorical  way  of  speaking.  On  the 
seventeenth  day  of  May  the  class  took  their  Sophomore  seats  in  Chapel 
and  for  the  remainder  of  the  term  did  not  study  enough  to  seriously  im- 
pair their  somewhat  exhausted  energies ; but  when  the  time  for  the  last 
grand  examinations  of  the  year  had  come,  the  black  boards  were  greased 
so  that  they  passed  off  smoothly  and  swiftly.  Commencement  was  now 
at  hand,  and  the  class  of  ’61,  accompanied  by  the  rest  of  the  College,  and 
Sutherland’s  band,  marched  in  procession  to  Linden  Hall,  and  listened  to 
the  orations  which  the  class  of  ’58  then  and  there  pronounced,  after  which 
with  many  sad  farewells  they  departed  for  home. 


SOPHOMORE  YEAR. 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  nine  weeks’  vacation  which  followed  the  close  of  Freshman  year, 
and  the  addition  of  eleven  members  to  the  class,  together  with  the  studies, 
the  privileges,  and  the  glorious  name  of  Sophomore,  inspired  the  class 
with  new  life,  at  once  classical,  cheerful,  elevated,  useful  and  sublime. — 
They  were  the  j oiliest  set  of  Sophs,  that  ever  raised  their  songs  on  high, 
“ in  token  of  their  College  days  so  swiftly  passing  by.”  Hard,  hard  in- 
deed, was  the  fate  of  those  mother’s  sons  who  were  Freshmen  in  those 
days ; for  it  was  no  longer  cowardly  ’60,  but  brave  ’61  that  handled  the 
Sophomore  utensils.  No  lesson  was  so  long  and  hard  but  that  they  found 
time  to  attend  to  the  more  arduous  duties  of  training  the  Freshmen  in  the 
way  they  should  go,  when  they  at  last  became  Sophomores.  No  cost  was 
spared  when  miniature  hydraulic  rams,  oyster  cans,  tobacco,  and  such 
necessaries  were  to  be  procured ; and  at  the  close  of  their  Sophomore 
year  the  class  of ’61  had  the  pleasing  satisfaction  of  having  a well  trained 
lot  of  Freshmen — Delancey  Stow  being  among  the  number. 

It  was  during  the  first  part  of  this  term  that  the  class  of  61  visited  Old 
Alabaster’s,  (a  brewer  in  the  precincts  of  Geneva,)  who  as  usual  met  them 
with  a smiling  face,  cups  o’erflowing  with  the  healthy  beverage,  and  Mrs. 
Alabaster  at  his  side,  who  as  usual  had  innumerable  complaints  to  make 


37 


about  the  manner  in  which  she  had  been  treated  by  the  class  of  ’60,  and 
numerous  long  stories  to  relate  concerning  her  son  John,  who  it  seems  liad 
just  been  and  gone  and  got  a wife,  and  she  was  going  to  Rochester  to  make 
him  a present  of  a cradle.  After  a social  hour  spent  with  the  old  folks, 
and  we  regret  to  say  it,  having  clandestinely  stuffed  their  capacious  pock- 
ets with  the  best  apples  the  cellar  afforded,  the  class  embarked  aboard 
their  boats  again  for  Geneva. 

We  now  come  to  one  of  the  most  interesting  episodes  in  the  history  of 
the  class.  The  Sophomore  Prize  Exhibition  was  nearly  at  hand,  and 
those  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  exercises  were  on-tip  toe,  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  last  grand  splurge.  Behold  them  in  class  meeting ; after  a 
series  of  proceedings,  which  in  confusion  and  noise  would  have  done 
credit  to  either  House  of  Congress,  an  essay  is  read  by  Mr.  Cowles,  ac- 
companied by  immense  applause,  which,  after  having  pictured  in  glowing 
colors  the  exploits  of  the  Faculty  under  the  benign  influence  of  “ Alabas- 
ter’s best,”  suggested  that  a certain  member  of  the  class,  whose  name  we 
will  hide,  should  furnish  a “ clam  supper.”  The  sentiments  of  the  essay 
were  unanimously  adopted,  and  thereby  hangs  a tale.  Scarcely  a single 
day  had  passed  before  the  young  Sophomore,  desirous  to  gratify  a wish 
so  generally  expressed  by  the  class,  dispatched  invitations  to  the  mem- 
bers requesting  the  pleasure  of  their  company  at  an  entertainment  got  up 
without  regard  to  style  or  expense,  at  that  popular  resort,  the  “ Gem.” — 
Much  astonishment  was  manifested  by  the  class  that  a young  man  of  such 
generous  proclivities  had  so  long  belonged  to  the  class  without  having  liis 
good  qualities  before  made  known.  But  the  invitation  was  accepted ; 
light  suppers  were  eaten,  to  leave  room  for  the  good  things  anticipated  • 
and  at  the  appointed  hour  the  class  met  at  No.  10,  Trinity  Hall,  all  anx- 
ious to  proceed  Gem- wards.  To  be  concise,  they  marched  down;  the 
young  gentleman,  when  all  were  seated  at  the  table,  said  that  he  would 
order  up  champagne ; he  stepped  out,  and  presently  the  waiter  made  his 
appearance  with  a glass  of  ale  and  a clam,  on  the  half  shell,  for  each  man, 
but  no  champagne  was  seen,  the  young  vagabond  had  sloped ; and  thus  the 
class  of  ’61  was  sold  by  one  of  its  own  members — the  only  instance  in  the 
annals  of  the  class  where  one  of  its  members  proved  a traitor,  and  he  soon 
afterwards  voluntarily  left  and  went  into  the  class  below,  the  feeling  in 
the  class  of  ’61  was  so  strong  against  him.  May  he  be  more  popular 
where  he  is  than  he  was  when  a member  of  our  glorious  class.  It  was 
during  the  first  term  of  this  year  that  the  class  practiced  the  elegant  art 
of  surveying.  They  surveyed  several  tracts  of  land  with  remarkably  suc- 
cessful results,  usually  placing  their  instruments  under  the  shade  of  some 
apple  tree,  in  order  to  get  the  bearings,  and  at  the  same  time  avoid  the 
optical  delusions  of  the  sun’s  rays.  The  term  closed  with  the  annual  ex- 


38 


liibition,  and  a supper  at  the  Gem.  Speeches  were  made,  the  songs,  which 
our  poet  had  written  expressly  for  the  occasion,  were  sung,  and  with 
many  farewells  the  class  departed  for  home. 

m 

CHAPTER  II. 

We  shall  pass  by  the  second  term,  although  filled  with  stirring  events; 
merely  stating  that  at  the  beginning  of  this  term  the  class  bolted  Calculus ; 
and  for  a programme  of  what  the  class  accomplished  the  remainder  of 
Sophomore  year,  vide  College  Register.  We  regret  that  time  will  not  per- 
mit us  to  give  a detailed  account  of  what  astonishing  progress  the  class 
made  in  the  French  language,  as  well  as  in  Mechanics,  Optics  and  Ger- 
man, but  we  must  pass  them  all  by.  On  the  19th  of  June,  the  class  hav- 
ing recited  their  last  lesson  in  Sophomore  year,  resolved  to  try  the  bene- 
fits of  a sea  voyage  on  the  blue  rolling  waves  of  Seneca.  Accordingly 
they  chartered  the  fast  sailing  craft  “ Louise,”  together  with  old  Hawks 
as  Captain.  Having  provisioned  her  well  with  all  the  necessaries  of  a 
long  voyage,  at  10  o’clock  A.  M.  they  weighed  anchor.  The  propitious 
gales  wafted  the  “thing  of  life  ” majestically  along  her  liquid  way,  and 
at  so  rapid  a rate  that  in  about  three  hours  the  village  of  Geneva  was 
scarcely  distinguishable  in  the  blue  distance.  Six  miles  were  swiftly 
passed,  when  the  names  of  the  members  of  the  class  were  written  on  a 
piece  of  paper  and  sealed  up  tight  in  a bottle,  preparatory  to  being  cast 
into  the  sea,  in  order  that  if  the  boat  should  upset,  the  men  drowned,  and 
the  Register  should  be  lost,  the  illustrious  names  of  the  class  of ’61  might 
float  to  some  distant  shore,  and  be  rescued  from  oblivion  by  some  person 
fond  of  the  bottle.  In  the  course  of  the  day  they  arrived  at  Dresden,  and 
put  up  at  the  “ Dresden  Hotel but  from  some  cause  unknown  were  en- 
tirely unable  to  get  anything  to  eat.  Their  epigrastics  were  entirely 
empty,  and  when  at  last  they  found  a man  with  pies  at  fifty  cents  apiece, 
in  anticipation  of  a great  treat,  they  ordered  on  the  whole  lot ; but  on  at- 
tempting to  take  them  out  of  the  pans  it  was  found  impossible  to  do  so, 
owing  to  the  peculiar  manner  of  making  pies  at  Dresden.  Hungry  then 
and  tired  with  the  day’s  work,  they  returned  to  the  boat,  satisfied  that  a 
man  to  appreciate  a sea  voyage,  must  pay  his  attention  to  it  early  in  life. 
Capt.  Hawks  had  evidently  picked  up  the  bottle  thrown  overboard ; for 
he  was  found  amidship  of  the  jib-boom,  in  a position  perpendicular  to  the 
ecliptic,  and  in  a complete  state  of  insensibility.  Placing  him  on  the  taff- 
rail  quarter  of  the  poop  deck,  they  took  the  vessel  in  charge,  and  spread- 
ing the  sails  to  the  favoring  breeze,  were  soon  alongside  the  dock  at  Ge- 
neva. Fifty-nine’s  commencement  followed  soon,  and  thus  ended  Sopli- 
more  year. 


JUNIOR  YEAR. 


The  fact  that  they  were  Juniors  wrought  a change  in  the  class.  The 
spirit  of  the  Freshman  year  had  been  that  of  enterprise,  adventure  and 
daring;  that  of  Sophomore  was  at  once  jolly  and  mirthful,  but  at  the 
same  time  dignified  and  becoming.  The  class  of  ’61  was  ever  distinguish- 
ed for  dignity  and  gentlemanly  bearing,  and  when  Junior  year  arrived 
and  with  it  the  time  to  put  on  a certain  amount  of  “ dig.,”  the  class  ap- 
peared as  natural  and  graceful  in  their  new  garb,  as  though  they  had 
never  passed  through  the  wild  scenes  of  Freshman  and  Sophomore  years. 
It  would  be  a pleasing  task  to  follow  them  through  the  labors  of  Junior 
year — to  speak  of  the  excellent  instructions  of  Dr.  Wilson  and  Prof. 
Towler — the  manner  in  which  each  distinguished  himself  at  Junior  Ex- 
hibition, &c.  &c. — but  space  will  only  permit  us  to  add,  that  they  con- 
quered the  difficulties  of  the  year,  and  passed  through  the  examinations 
in  a manner  both  creditable  to  their  Alma  Mater  and  themselves. 


SENIOR  YEAR. 

The  class  of  ’61,  during  the  Senior  year,  has  been  grave  and  reserved. 
It  has  maintained  the  proper  amount  of  Senior  dignity  at  all  times  and 
in  all  places.  It  has  been  sober,  manly  and  industrious,  loyal  to  the 
Faculty,  and  ever  ready  to  defend  the  interests  of  its  Alma  Mater.  The 
people  of  Geneva  will  certify,  and  especially  the  ladies,  of  whom  Geneva 
can  well  be  proud,  that  the  members  of  ’61  have  ever  been  courteous  and 
gentlemanly,  throughout  all  their  intercourse  with  them ; and  for  their 
uniform  kindness  and  attention  to  us  during  our  stay  of  four  years  in  their 
midst,  the  class  through  this  medium  return  to  them  their  sincere  thanks. 

The  exercises  of  Class-Day  were  properly  the  winding  up  of  our  Col- 
lege career.  Commencement  will  soon  be  here.  Our  College  days  are 
o’er.  Soon  will  we  be  scattered  throughout  the  “ wide,  wide  world.”  If 
we  may  never  be  allowed  to  meet  again  on  earth,  may  we  meet  in  Heav- 
en where  partings  are  unknown. 


TOASTS. 


1.  Class  of  ’61— Pre-eminent  in  College  for  its  manliness,  its  integrity,  and  its  self- 
respect,  may  its  conduct  in  Life’s  discipline  be  constant  in  honor  and  uncompromi- 
sing in  truth,  reflecting  a proud  glory  upon  the  scene  of  its  academic  experience. 

Responded  to  by  J.  D.  Langworthy. 


40 


The  Day  we  Celebrate— The  inauguration  at  Hobart,  of  a happy  and  time-honored 
College  custom,  may  it  secure  to  succeeding  classes  the  joyous  pleasures  it  has  con- 
ferred upon  us. 

Responded  to  by  T.  J.  Ennis. 

3.  The  Orator  of  the  Day — May  his  efforts  to  realize  the  sentiment  of  his  address 
be  Napoleonic  and  successful. 

Responded  to  by  Napoleon  Palmer. 

4.  The  Poet  Leaureate — May  the  Muse  who  this  day  has  kindled  the  glowing  Cowles 
into  aflame  of  poetic  fire,  enable  him  in  future  years  to  perpetuate  tne  glories  of  ’61 
in  living  verse  of  equal  grace. 

Responded  to  by  B.  K.  Cowles. 

5.  The  Historian — May  he  always  find  for  the  labors  of  his  pen  as  worthy  a theme  ; 
and  may  he  always  treat  it  in  a manner  as  worthy  and  unexceptionable 

Responded  to  by  Martin  Cooper. 

6.  Our  Alma  Mater— 

“ Alma  Mater,  Alma  Mater,  Heaven’s  blessings  attend  thee, 

While  we  live  we  will  cherish,  protect  and  defend  thee.” 

Responded  to  by  C.  M.  Wiley. 

7.  The  President  and  Faculty — Honored  and  respected,  may  they  long  be  spared  to 
gnard  our  Alma  Mater’s  interests,  and  increase  her  spreading  fame. 

Responded  to  by  R.  M.  Duff. 

8.  Our  Trustees— May  the  names  of  every  one  of  them  be  inseparably  connected 
with  our  College  by  some  work  of  individual  magnificent  beneficence. 

Responded  to  by  J.  N.  Macomb. 

9.  Our  absent  Class-mates — Their  absence  is  the  sole  imperfection  of  this  day’s  en- 
joyment. 

Responded  to  by  G.  G.  Perrine. 

10.  Our  Class  Tree— May  we  be  granted  the  privilege  in  after  years  of  gathering  be- 
neath its  umbrageous  shades,  and  winding  garlands  around  its  gnarly  trunk. 

Responded  to  by  W.  W.  Walsh. 

11.  Our  Motto — May  it  be  our  life-long  rallying  cry  in  every  duty. 

Responded  to  by  A.  B.  Hough. 

12.  The  Gamma  U Society — May  it  grow  apace  like  a Palm,  and  still  continue  to 
shower  its  rich  immunities  and  blessings  on  verdant  Freshmen  yet  unborn. 

Responded  to  by  G.  L.  Yost. 

13.  The  Brides  of  the  Class— From  scolding  wife,  lack-a-daisical  blue-stockings, 
and  empty-headed  coquettes,  good  Lord  deliver  us  ; but  may  our  Brides  be 

“ Guardian  Angels  o’er  our  lives  presiding, 

Doubling  our  pleasures,  and  our  cares  dividing.” 

Responded  to  by  J.  H.  H.  Millett. 

14.  The  Professions — May  they  welcome  us  kindly,  and  be  honored  by  our  patronage. 

Responded  to  by  H.  A.  Whallon. 

15.  Geneva — We  will  always  treasure  in  a snug  nook  in  our  memory  a warm  recol- 
lection of  the  beauties  of  its  scenery,  and  the  charms  of  its  society. 

Responded  to  by  C.  J.  Wright. 

16.  The  Ladies — A health  to  sweet  woman. 

Were  I the  monarch  of  the  earth,  and  master  of  the  swelling  sea, 

I would  not  estimate  their  worth,  dear  woman,  half  the  price  of  thee.” 

Responded  to  by  F.  G.  Barnard. 

17.  The  Indian  Paddle — May  it  safely  guide  down  the  stream  of  College  life,  the 
conceited  ’62,  the  indolent  ’63,  and  the  pugilistic  class  of  ’64. 

Responded  to  by  C.  T.  Ogden. 

18.  Our  Deceased  Brother— 

Standing-  and  in  silence. 

19.  Our  Departure  and  Separation— It  takes  place  amid  high  hopes  and  happy  feel- 
ings, not  unmixed  witli  thoughts  af  sadness.  Our  prayer  is  that  it  may  be  only  pre- 
liminary to  a holy  re-union  in  the  abodes  of  inseparable  friendship. 

Responded  to  by  T.  A.  Merriman. 

20.  Our  Host — His  works  are  his  best  praise. 

Responded  to  by  H.  L.  Suydam. 


